2. Where ere she lye,

Lock't up from mortall eye,

In shady leaves of Destiny:

3. Till that ripe birth

Of studied Fate stand forth,

And teach her faire steps tread our Earth;

4. Till that divine

Idæa, take a shrine

Of chrystall flesh, through which to shine;

5. Meet you her, my wishes,

Bespeake her to my blisses,

And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.

6. I wish her, beauty

That owes not all its duty

To gaudy tire or glistring shoo-ty.

7. Something more than

Taffata or tissew can,

Or rampant feather, or rich fan.

8. More than the spoyle

Of shop, or silkeworme's toyle,

Or a bought blush, or a set smile.

9. A face that's best

By its owne beauty drest,

And can alone commend the rest.

5

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25

hales play.