Cupid, though blind, yet pitied and relieved
This modest Lady with some happy fate.
For what but Virtue, which doth all good nourish,
Could brook her fortunes, much less love and cherish.
Eurialæ, with good Urania stayed,
Where Virtue dwells, they only had their being;
Beauty and Wit still fear, are not dismayed,
For where they dwell, Love ever will be prying.
These two were one. All good, each could impart.
One was their fortune, and one was their heart.