The laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare, gives me great hope of your relenting mynd: for since it is the badg which I doe beare, ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind: The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire with sweet infusion, and put you in mind of that proud mayd, whom now those leaves attyre: Proud Daphne scorning Phæbus lovely fyre, on the Thessalian shore from him did flie: for which the gods in theyr revengefull yre did her transforme into a laurell tree. Then fly no more fayre love from Phebus chace, but in your brest his leafe and love embrace.