of _Vesta_-vowed Girles,
came _Mirrha_ (whose thoughts no guile then knew)
Like a bright diamond circled with pearls,
whose radiant eye delt lustre to the hew
Of all the dames; whose face so farre aboue
though the rest (beautious all) vnwounded made loue, loue
for neuer since _Spiches_ was made a star
did he see nature excel art so far.

He ch[=a]g'd his shape, his wings he oft hath torne,
and like a hunter to this nimph he came:
With gold tipt _Iauelin_ and a bugle Horne,
such as they beare to make the Lyon tame:
First did he kisse hir hand, which then did melt
with loue's impression, _Cupid_ the like felt:
Stroke dumbe, he stood in an vnwonted guise,
such magicke beawtie carries in her eies.

At length (quoth he) should I not say I loue,
I should both _Cupid_ and his Mother wrong:
By thee faire Maid a power farre aboue,
My heart is the true index of my tongue.
And by my naked wordes you may discouer,
I am not traded like a common Louer.
Rare obiects, rare amazements bred, tis true:
And their effects are tryed in me by you.

My barren braine, can bless me with no store
Of able Epithits, so what praise I giue
Makes not you ritcher though it makes me poore
therefore in vaine against the streame I striue,
Th'ore curious painter, meaning to excell,
Oft marres the worke, the which before was well,
And he shall dazeled be, and tyred soone,
That leuelleth his shafts to hit the Moone.

With this, she turnd her blushing head aside,
& vail'd her face with lawne, not halfe so white
That euen the blending roses were espyed
despight the cloudes, that hid them in despight
She threw her thin breath through the lawne, and said
Leaue gentle youth, do not thus snare a maid
I came to _Orpheus_ Song, good then forbeare,
It is his tune, nor yours can charme mine eare.

Let _Orpheus_ learne (quoth he) of thee to sing,
Bid him charme men _Mirrha_ as thou canst doe:
Let him tame Man, that is the Lyons King,
And lay him prostrate at his feete belowe,
As thou canst doe: nor _Orpheus_ nor the spheares
Haue Tones like thee, to rauish mortall eares,
Yea, were this Thracian Harper Iudge to tell,
(As thee) hee'd sweare he sung not halfe so wel.

Nor dying Swans, nor Phebus when he loue's,
equals thy voice (though he in musicke courts)
and as the God whose voice the firm earth moues
making