Of faire thynges and soule, where in a vertuous Ladie is sette out.

AS God bestowde his grace,
on thee through heauenly skill,
By comely shape and forme of face,
and worldly wealthe at ll:
So people doe suppose,
(that beares an vpright minde,)
Amid thy noble inward breast,
dame Uertues giftes are shrinde.
For God makes nothyng lame, his woorks so perfite bee,
That hidden graces aunswers oft, the outward shape we see:
The ritche and precious pearle, that shines to sight ye knowe,
Haue many vertues in the same, besides the outward showe.
The goodly glittryng gold, hath Nature to restore,
Some peece of health yt sicknesse brought, by greef consumde before:
The flowre whose beautie faire, delites the eye full well,
Is freend by kinde to medsons sweete, and sharps our sence by smell.
The ground that smothly lookes, bears fruits and herbs enowe,
And yeelds the Idle Landlorde rent, and feeds the houshold throwe:
Thus from faire things I proue, some goodnesse men maie reape,
And where that beautie budds & bloums, doeth bountie hord & heape
Els all this goodly worlde, is but like painted poste,
Or as a picture dombe and dedde, that hath ne sprite nor ghost.
If Phebus wanted heate, and did no grace retaine,
For all his beames and glorie greate, he should but shine in vaine:
I doubt not but the Gods, hath furnisht you so well,
That life and good renowme can showe, where vertue ought to dwel
My penne but mou's your minde, of that ye like to here,
A iewell that the Gods embrace, and worlde doeth holde full dere:
that long shall laste, whose light shall nere goe out,
But burne & blase as bright as torche, whiles breath ye beare about.
If people did but note, what doeth by vertue ryes,
The meanest wight wt wings of fame, would seke to mount ye skies:
Or followe them whose stepps, doeth eche good gift aduaunce,
Thei know full well what measure means, that leads dame vertues daunce,
I leaue you to the rounde, holde on the trace a while,
And as the bell beginns to sound, at Churchyards verses smile.