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To PANDORA.
I Pause not on the gold of Tagus sand,
Nor Erithrean braue and shyning shells:
Ilong not for the limits large of Land,
Wherein the barbar newfound Nations dwels:
I bid not of these bounds whose boosome swells
With birth of braue and costly Iewels rare,
Which with their Muske and Siuet sweetest smels
In fairest Chattons, set perfume the ayre.
My pridles Hart subdued with Loue and feare,
Seekes that those Songes the Heralds of my hart
Might mooue the sweet and flintie harted faire
Some fauour once, and pittie to impart:
Els that vpon the Alter of her wreath,
She would accept th'oblation of my death.
At siue te regum Muneranulla vol••.