From thence full fraught with many a precious prise
They sail’d along, whereas the passage lies
To Troynouant, whose pride of youthfull lust
The hand of death had smothered in the dust;
The smiling heau’ns, that with sweet sunshine howres
Did once vouchsafe t’adorne her hie topt towres,
Now with grim lookes, which did my heart appall,
Did seeme to threaten her approching fall:
Downe from their cloudie browes in threatning pride,
Death-darting pestilence did seeme to slide: