Did smile at our mishaps, while day by day
We did expect our loued liues decay:
For fatall ’tis to princes royall borne
Where tyrant’s browes the garland doth adorne.
12.
So long with her Canute she liu’d in loue,
Till with loue’s fruit her wombe to wex begun,
Which being brought to light, a sonne did proue:
But when that twice nine times the golden sun
In heauen’s bright zodiack through the signes had run,