The Owle

I a Kings daughter, see what pride may do,
In fatall yewe takes vp my forlorne seate,
The cause wherof was this, if you would know,
I would haue better bread then grew on wheate,
Though now a Mouse be all the food I eate,
And glad I am when I can feed of it.

Ruff-curled necke, see I reserue some show
Of what I was, though far from her I was,
Wherein my boundlesse pride so farre did grow,
That as in place I did the rest surpasse,
So in the purest beautie of my face,
Courting my selfe in fancies looking glasse.

Milke-bathed skin, see wantons what I vs'd,
To make my skin more supple, smooth, & sleeke,
Wherein my natiue hue by Art abus'd,
I lay a new complexion on my cheeke,
Sending my eyes abroad suters to seeke,
And vying fashions with each day i'th weeke.

Nought I affected more then what was rare,
"Best things (if common) I did disesteeme,
Seld was I breathd on by the publike ayre,
"For those are most admir'd are seldome seene,
Which is, and hath a custome euer bene,
"Such as come oft abroad, we vulgar deeme.

Thus selfe-admir'd I liu'd, till thus transform'd,
I got a feature fitting with my pride:
For I that scorned others now am scorn'd,
Had in disgrace; and in pursuite beside;
May the like fate like spirits aye betide,
So worthlesse honour shall be soone descride.

For ruff thick-set, a curle-wreathed plume,
Round bout my necke I weare, for tyres of gold
A downie tuft of feathers is my crowne,
For fan in hand my clawes a pearch do hold,
And for those cates and dainties manifold,
"A mouse I wish, but wants her when I would.

Be well aduis'd then Minions, what you do,
"Portray my feature, and make vse of it,
What fell to me may like wise fall to you,
And then how daring-high so ere you sit,
Nought but dishonour shall your pride begit,
"Dead to report of Uertue as is fit.