So subtle and curious was the measure With such unlooked-for change in every strain, As that PENELOPE rapt with sweet pleasure Weened she beheld the true proportion plain Of her own web, weaved and unweaved again: But that her Art was somewhat less, she thought, And on a mere ignoble subject wrought.
For here, like to the silkworm's industry, Beauty itself out of itself did weave So rare a work, and of such subtlety, As did all eyes entangle and deceive; And in all minds a strange impression leave. In this sweet labyrinth did CUPID stray, And never had the power to pass away.
As when the Indians, neighbours of the Morning, In honour of the cheerful rising Sun, With pearl and painted plumes themselves adorning, A solemn stately measure have begun; The god well pleased with that fair honour done, Sheds forth his beams, and doth their faces kiss With that immortal glorious face of his:
2. Of the Soul of Man, and the Immortality thereof.
Printed by RICHARD FIELD, for JOHN STANDISH.
[This work was thus registered for publication at Stationers' Hall: 10 Aprilis [1599].
Entred for his copie A booke called _Nosce Teipsum The oracle expounded in two Elegies._ 1. _of human kno[w]ledge._ 2. _of the soule of Man and th[e] immortality thereof._
[_the junior Warden_ _at the time_] hand is to yt.
This is aucthorised vnder the hand of the L[ord] Bysshop of LONDON PROVYED that yt must not be printed without his L[ordships] hand to yt again.
_To that clear Majesty which in the North Doth like another sun in glory rise; Which standeth fixt, yet spreads her heavenly worth Loadstone to hearts, and loadstar to all eyes:_
_Like heaven in all; like th' earth in this alone, That though great States by her support do stand, Yet she herself supported is of none, But by the finger of th' Almighty's hand:_
_To the divinest and the richest Mind, Both by Art's purchase and by Nature's dower, That ever was from heaven to earth confined, To shew the utmost of a creature's power:_
_To that great Spirit which doth great kingdoms move, The sacred spring, whence Right and Honour streams, Distilling Virtue, shedding Peace and Love In every place, as CYNTHIA sheds her beams:_
_I offer up some sparkles of that fire, Whereby we Reason, Live, and Move, and Be. These sparks, by nature, evermore aspire; Which makes them to so high a Highness flee._