When home I came, nipt with sharpe cold of Boreas bitter aire,
After repast to my warme bed forthwith I made repaire,
Where, for the nights were tedious growen, and I disturb’d in mind
With thoughts of that daies obiect seene, not vnto sleepe inclin’d,
I vp did sit, my backe behind the pillow soft did stay,
And call’d for light, with booke in hand to passe the time away;
Of which each line which I did reade, in nature did agree
With that true vse of things which I the day before did see
A Mirrour hight for Magistrates, for title it did beare,
In which by painfull pens, the fals of princes written were: