His great sithe mowes all away
As the stalke of tender rose.
Onlie Immortalitie
Of the Heau’ns doth it oppose
Gainst his powerfull Deitie.
One daie there will come a daie
Which shall quaile thy fortunes flower,
And thee ruinde low shall laie
In some barbarous Princes power.
When the pittie-wanting fire