Aemelia Lanyer - To the Ladie Anne, Countesse of Dorset lyrics

To you I dedicate this worke of Grace, This frame of Glory which I haue erected, For your faire mind I hold the fittest place, Where virtue should be setled & protected; If highest thoughts true honor do imbrace, And holy Wisdom is of them respected: Then in this Mirrour let your faire eyes looke, To view your virtues in this blessed Booke. Blest by our Sauiors merits, not my skil, Which I acknowledge to be very small; Yet if the least part of his blessed Will I haue perform'd, I count I haue done all: One sparke of grace sufficient is to fill Our Lampes with oyle, ready when he doth call To enter with the Bridegroome to the feast, Where he that is the greatest may be least. Greatnesse is no sure frame to build vpon, No worldly treasure can a**ure that place; God makes both euen, the Cottage with the Throne, All worldly honours there are counted base, Those he holds deare, and reckneth as his owne, Whose virtuous deeds by his [especiall] grace Haue gain'd his loue, his kingdome, and his crowne, Whom in the booke of Life he hath set downe. Titles of honour which the world bestowes, To none but to the virtous belong; As beauteous bowres where true worth should repose, And where his dwellings should be built most strong: But when they are bestow'd vpon her foes, Poore virtues friends indure the greatest wrong: For they must suffer all indignity, Vntill in heau'n they better graced be. What difference was there when the world began, Was it not Virtue that distinguisht all? All sprang but from one woman and one man, Then how doth Gentry come to rise and fall? Or who is he that very rightly can Distinguish of his birth, or tell at all, In what meane state his Ancestors haue bin, Before some one of worth did honour win? Whose successors, although they beare his name, Possessing not the riches of his minde, How doe we know they spring out of the same True stocke of honour, beeing not of that kind? It is faire virtue gets immortall fame, Tis that doth all loue and duty bind: If he that much enjoyes, doth little good, We may suppose he comes not of that blood. Nor is he fit for honour, or command, If base affections ouer-rules his mind; Or that selfe-will doth carry such a hand, As worldly pleasures haue the powre to blind So as he cannot see, nor vnderstand How to discharge that place to him a**ign'd: Gods Stewards must for all the poore prouide, If in Gods house they purpose to abide.