For Hayle (a lusty nymph, bent all to amorous play,
And having quick recourse into the Severn sea,
With Neptune’s pages oft disporting in the deep;
One never touch’d with care, but how herself to keep
In excellent estate) doth thus again intreat;
‘Muse, leave the wayward Mount to his distemper’d heat,
‘Who nothing can produce but what doth taste of spight,
‘I’ll shew thee things of ours most worthy thy delight.
‘Behold our diamonds here, as in the quarrs they stand,
‘By nature neatly cut, as by a skilful hand,