|
| No more do I wrong any, if I adore |
| The same things now which I ador'd before, |
| The subject chang'd, and measure; the same thing |
| In a low constable, and in the King |
| I reverence; His power to work on me; |
| So did I humbly reverence each degree |
| Of fair, great, good, but more, now I am come |
| From having found their walks, to finde their home. |
| And as I owe my first souls thanks, that they |
| For my last soul did fit and mould my clay, |
| So am I debtor unto them, whose worth |
| Enabled me to profit, and take forth |
| This new great lesson, thus to study you; |
| Which none, not reading others, first, could do. |
| Nor lack I light to read this book, though I |
| In a dark Cave, yea in a Grave doe lie; |
| For as your fellow Angels, so you doe |
| Illustrate them who come to study you. |
| The first whom we in Histories do find |
| To have profest all Arts, was one born blind: |
| He lackt those eyes beasts have as well as we, |
| Not those, by which Angels are seen and see; |
| So, though I'am born without those eyes to live, |
| Which Fortune, who hath none her self, doth give, |
| Which are fit means to see bright courts and you, |
| Yet may I see you thus, as now I doe; |
| I shall by that all goodness have discern'd, |
| And though I burn my Library, be learn'd. |
|
| To the Countess of Bedford. |
|
| You that are she, and you that's double she; |
| In her dead face, half of your self shall see;
|
[CW: She] |