TO THE VERTVOVS Ladie, the Ladie Elizabeth Clere, Wife to the Right Worshipfull Sir Francis Clere, Knight.
Reading edition
My muse, that whilome wail’d those Briton kings, Who vnto her in vision did appeare, Craues leaue to strengthen her night-weathered wings, In the warm sun-shine of your golden Clere: Where she (faire ladie) tuning her chast layes Of England’s empresse to her hymnicke string, For your affect, to heare that virgin’s praise, Makes choice of your chast selfe to heare her sing: Whose royall worth (true vertue’s paragon) Heere made me dare t’ingraue your worthie name; In hope, that vnto you the same alone Will so excuse me of presumptuous blame, That gracefull entertaine my muse may find, And euer beare such grace in thankfull mind.
Your Ladiship’s euer humblie at command, Richard Niccols.