Not to a true, but painted chair?
· · · · ·
Must purling streams refresh a lover’s loves?
Must all be vail’d while he that reades divines,
Catching the sense at two removes?”[[7]]
As for himself, he says:
“I envie no man’s nightingale or spring;
Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme,
Who plainly say, My God, my King.”
(“Jordan.”)