To the K. of Scots Whome as Yet He Had Not Seene. Sonet 4 -
Sonet 4.
Bloome of the rose I hope those hands to kisse
Which yonge a scepter which olde wisdome bore
And offer vp ioy-sacrifice before
Thy altar throne for that receaued blisse
Yet prince of hope suppose not for all this
That I thy place and not thy guifts adore
Thy scepter no thy pen I honoure more
More deare to me then crowne thy garland is
That laurell garland which (if hope say true)
To thee for deeds of prowesse shall belong
And now allreadie vnto thee is due
As to a Dauid for a kinglie songe
The pen wherewith thow dost so heauenly singe
Made of a quill pluckt from an Angells winge.
Bloome of the rose I hope those hands to kisse
Which yonge a scepter which olde wisdome bore
And offer vp ioy-sacrifice before
Thy altar throne for that receaued blisse
Yet prince of hope suppose not for all this
That I thy place and not thy guifts adore
Thy scepter no thy pen I honoure more
More deare to me then crowne thy garland is
That laurell garland which (if hope say true)
To thee for deeds of prowesse shall belong
And now allreadie vnto thee is due
As to a Dauid for a kinglie songe
The pen wherewith thow dost so heauenly singe
Made of a quill pluckt from an Angells winge.
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