R ed in her right cheeke thou dost rise,
E xalted after in her eyes,
G reat glory there thou shewest;
I n th' other cheeke when thou descendest,
N ew rednesse vnto it thou lendest,
A nd so thy round thou goest.
HYMNE XII.
To her Picture.
E xtreame was his audacitie,
L ittle his skill, that finisht thee;
I am asham'd and sorry,
S o dull her counterfeit should bee,
A nd she so full of glory.
B ut here are colours red and white,
E ach line, and each proportion right;
T hese lines, this red and whitenesse,
H aue wanting yet a life and light,
A maiestie, and brightnesse.
R ude counterfeit, I then did erre,
E uen now when I would needs inferre
G reat boldnesse in thy maker;
I did mistake, he was not bold,
N or durst his eyes her eyes behold:
A nd this made him mistake her.
HYMNE XIII.
Of her Minde.