Allah vere

PROVDE Empresse, of the prouder Tyrant mind,
Of Soliman's high boundles-swelling thought:
When like the Ocean, boyling with the wind,
Of vaine Ambition, all in vaine he wrought,
To vndermine our Christian happie state,
And drowne her in, a deluge of his hate.

But as our God, hath giu'n the Sea his bound:
So (Pagan) scatterd he, thy froathy Ire:
And while thou dream'st, of compassing this round,
Thy Snuffe went out, and yet thou want'st no fire:
Not that same which, thy fat Ambition fed,
But that of Hell, that eates thee, liuing-dead.