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Haucer is dead; and Gower lyes in grave;

The Earle of Surrey, long agoe is gone;

Sir Philip Sidneis soule, the Heauens haue;

George Gascoigne him beforne, was tomb'd in stone,

Yet, tho their Bodies lye full low in ground,

(As euery thing must dye, that earst was borne)

Their liuing fame, no Fortune can confound;

Nor euer shall their Labours be forlorne.

And you, that discommend sweete Poetrie,

(So that the Subiect of the same be good)

Here may you see, your fond simplicitie;

Sith Kings haue fauord it, of royall Blood.

The King of Scots (now liuing) is a Poet,

As his Lepanto, and his Furies shoe it.



Iue Spenser euer, in thy Fairy Queene:

Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer seene.

Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne,

(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crowne.

And Daniell, praised for thy sweet-chast Verse:

Whose Fame is grav'd on Rosamonds blacke Herse.

Still mayst thou liue: and still be honored,

For that rare Worke, The White Rose and the Red.

And Drayton, whose wel-written Tragedies,

And sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies.

Thy learned Name, is sequall with the rest;

Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest.