Yet still thou vow'st her more; and every yeare
Mak'st a new progresse, while thou wandrest here;
35Still upward mount; and let thy Makers praise
Honor thy Laura, and adorne thy laies.
And since thy Muse her head in heaven shrouds,
Oh let her never stoope below the clouds:
And if those glorious sainted soules may know
40Or what wee doe, or what wee sing below,
Those acts, those songs shall still content them best
Which praise those awfull Powers that make them blest.