Whose Vertue quels all wrath and rancor deepe,
Whose life Heauens grace and death would monument
Vertue thy life aie.[66]
How many wounded hearts thou makst to tremble,
And I of many one cannot dissemble,
How farre into in that eie-sore.
So were thy beauty but deseruing praise,
So were thy beauty but as feminine,
Then could my quill his straine so high arrayse,
Then could with it compare the masculine,