Classic Poem

Lo thus in breife (most sacred Majestye)
I have sett downe whence all theis Sibells weare
What they foretold, or saw, we see, and heare,
And profett reape by all their prophesy
Would God I weare a Sibell to divine
In worthy vearse your lasting happynes:
Then only I should be Characteres
Of that, which worlds with wonder might defyne
But what need I to wish, when you are such,
Of whose perfections none can write to-mutch.