The Hue & Cry
1
Oyez, if any man can tell
Of a lost Deitie that fell
Whose heavenly head, in stead of haires
Is rob'd with rayes, as Aprill weares
Wth Alablaster front, whose face
Baffles the Sun in's brightest grace
Who not with eyes as Mortalls see
But starrs are stucke wheare eyes should bee.
2
Each syde her face 2 roses stay
The rest's the heavenly milky way
Corolls & Rubyes doe enclose
Her Pearly teeth that stand in rowes
Such azure streakes crawle o're ye plaines
As mortall Creatures doe call veines
Her Aromaticke breath excells
Th' Arabian Gumms & spicy smells.
3
A vale betweene 2 hills of Snowe
Leads to th'Elisium belowe
With Ivory thyghs, & moystned palme
Yeilds orient dropps of Soveraigne balme
Shee distills Pearles in stead of teares
Her voyce is th'musicke of ye Spheares
And if she does but sing, A wooer
Thinks Angells might sing ballads to her.
4
Shee's cloth'd wth Ermins, not with skin
And's all divine without and in
Her soule's unspotted, and shee's free
From vice and from infirinitie
Upon whose Brow dwells life & death
And Men Sucke blessings from hir breath
Yet mortalls kills, if shee but say dye
This wondrous thinge's yclipt a Ladie.
5
If by these markes you can discry
A woman from a Prodegie
And find this thing by your endeavour
Pray keepe her till I come, yt's never
But if you doubt, & doe desire
Whether she know herselfe, enquire
And for your paines you shall have woe
Soe gaine as much as woers doe.
Oyez, if any man can tell
Of a lost Deitie that fell
Whose heavenly head, in stead of haires
Is rob'd with rayes, as Aprill weares
Wth Alablaster front, whose face
Baffles the Sun in's brightest grace
Who not with eyes as Mortalls see
But starrs are stucke wheare eyes should bee.
2
Each syde her face 2 roses stay
The rest's the heavenly milky way
Corolls & Rubyes doe enclose
Her Pearly teeth that stand in rowes
Such azure streakes crawle o're ye plaines
As mortall Creatures doe call veines
Her Aromaticke breath excells
Th' Arabian Gumms & spicy smells.
3
A vale betweene 2 hills of Snowe
Leads to th'Elisium belowe
With Ivory thyghs, & moystned palme
Yeilds orient dropps of Soveraigne balme
Shee distills Pearles in stead of teares
Her voyce is th'musicke of ye Spheares
And if she does but sing, A wooer
Thinks Angells might sing ballads to her.
4
Shee's cloth'd wth Ermins, not with skin
And's all divine without and in
Her soule's unspotted, and shee's free
From vice and from infirinitie
Upon whose Brow dwells life & death
And Men Sucke blessings from hir breath
Yet mortalls kills, if shee but say dye
This wondrous thinge's yclipt a Ladie.
5
If by these markes you can discry
A woman from a Prodegie
And find this thing by your endeavour
Pray keepe her till I come, yt's never
But if you doubt, & doe desire
Whether she know herselfe, enquire
And for your paines you shall have woe
Soe gaine as much as woers doe.
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