Hymne XXI: Of th'innumerable Vertues of her Mind

Ere thou proceede in this sweet paines,
Learne Muse how many drops it raynes
In cold and moist December;
Summe vp May flowers & Augusts graines,
And grapes of mild September.

Beare the Seassands in memorie,
Earths grasses, and the starres in Skie,
The litle moares which mounted
Hang, in the beames of Phoebus eye,
And neuer can be counted.

Recount these numbers numberlesse,
Ere thou her vertue canst expresse,
Great wits this count will cumber,
Instruct thy selfe in numbring Schooles;
Now Courtiers vse to begge for fooles,
All such as cannot number.