[Begin Pg. 6, Continue Stanza # 9] I promise to builde thee a glorie, / That shall ever live in memorie . / [a skipped line] / In means while, take this lyttle thing : / But as small as it is : Devere. / Taunt us that never man before, / Now in England, knewe Pindars string. // [a skipped line] / Non careo patria , Me caret Illa margis. // Sonnet to the Reader. / 10.THou find'st not heere, neither the furious alarmes, / Of the pride of Spaine, or subtilnes of France: / Nor of the rude English, or mutine Almanes [Germans] : / Nor neither of Naples, noble men of armes. / No, an Infant, and that yet surmounteth Knights : / Hath both vanquished me, and also my Muse. / And vvere it not: this is a lawfull excuse. / If thou hearst not the report, of their great fights, / Thou shalt see no death of any valliant soldier, / And yet i sing the beauty of a fierce warrier. / And amore alone I must strike on my Leer [cavalier's emblem], / And but Eroto [Eros = Cupid] I knowe no other Muse. / And harke all you that are lyke us amourous. / And you that are not, goe read some other where. // Sonnets. 1. To his Mystresse Diana. / 11.TIs fyrst to you Dian, that I have togethers, / Given me aud my voice, making you the Idoll : / To which I offer both the body and soule, / Of these teares of my eyes, that fall heere like rivers. [End Pg. 6] ///

[Begin Pg. 7, Continue Stanza # 11] But in some thinges fabelous, you must be content / To see what it is, of us Lovers the flame, / And reade you must under a Goddesses name, / Of your beates the delycate ornament. / And where as these which are to apayse [appease] your cruelties: / Shall not proscribe well, your excellent rareties. / Excuse mee Nymphe, as you would have in some asite, / Of heaven your fayre semblance : for I doo not meane, / To sing you now : but Dian, when you have bene, / More gratious unto mee : I well sing you better. // Sonnet. 2. / 12.THe Greeke Poet to whome Bathill was the guide, / Made her immortall, by that which he did sing : / And (were it so I knowe not but) of Corine, / We faine the patrone of the Latine Ovide, / And since them (Petrarque) a wise Flourentine, / Hath turnde his Mistres into a tree of Baye. / And he that soong the eldest daughter of Troye, / In Fraunce hath made of her, an astre Divine. / And lyke these knowne men, can your Soothern, write too : / And as long as Englishe lasts, immortall you . / I the penne of Soothern will my fayre Diana, / Make thee immortall : if thou wilt give him favour : / For then hee'll sing Petrark, Tien, Ovide, Ronsar : / And make thee Cassander, Corine, Bathyll, Laura. // Sonnet. 3. / 13.THat death that despises at all kinde of beautie, / And would make all love, goe into Charons passage : / Would have hit the eyes, wherin I live in servage : / The eyes both to fayre, and too full of crueltie . / But Cupid that styll in those eyes was indompted [indentured?] : / The infant knew well, where after this death sought : / And began to crie (death) if thou ende thy thought, / We shall neither of us, be againe redoubted . / But (death) if thout let me live in these eyes styll : / Thou shalt see ( O then ) how nobelly I wyll. / [Printer's Mark of "B.1"] / [End Pg. 7] ///

 

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