Then may thy latter dayes out-strip old times,
That now hast seene, Earths circulary Climes:
And far beyond Ulysses, reach’d without him,
Both East and West, yea, North and South about him:
Which here exactly, thou hast sweetly sung
In ornat style, in our quick-flowing tongue;
Of Lawes, Religion, customes, manners, rites
Of Kings and people: life-sublimest sprits
In policies and government: Earths spaces
From soyle to soyle, in thy long wandring traces.