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SHSTMAC02UPU <P 6> <S Moore> Now will I speake like Moore in melancholy For if greefes power could wth her sharpest darts pierce my firme bosome; here#s sufficient cause to take my farewell of mirths hurtles lawes. Poore humbled Lady, thou that wert of late placde wth the noblest women of the land Invited to their angell companies seeming a bright Starre in the Courtly Sphere why shouldst thou like a widow sit thus low and all thy faire consorts moove from the clowds that ouerdreep thy beautie and thy worth Ile tell thee the true cause, the Court like heauen examines not the anger of the Prince and being more fraile composde of guilded earth shines vpon them on whom the king doth shine smiles if he smile, declines if he decline Yet seeing both are mortall Court and king shed not one teare for any earthly thing For so God p(ar)don me in my saddest hower thou hast no more occasion to lament nor these, nor those, my exile from the court no nor this bodyes tortur wer . . .
