Wherewith he graunted my request and calde
For Morpheus straight: which knew wherto he came
I will (quoth he) the rest, whom Fortune thralde
Of Britaynes shewe: thy selfe to heare them frame.
And therewithall he set forth one like Fame.
In fethers all with winges so finely dight,
As twere a birde, in humaine shape of flight.
Yet twas not Fame that femme of painted plume,
He rather seemed Icarus deceau’de,
With winges to flye nighe Phœbus did presume.