Ïðî÷èòàíèé :  133
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Òâîð÷³ñòü |
Á³îãðàô³ÿ |
Êðèòèêà
In prayse of Zouche late the Lady Greye of Wilton
whome the auctor found in a homely house.
These rustie walles whome cankred yeares deface,
The comely corps of seemely Zouche enclose,
Whose auncient stocke derivde from worthy race,
Procures hir praise, where so the carkas goes:
Hir aungels face declares hyr modest minde,
Hyr lovely lokes the gazing eyes allure,
Hyr deedes deserve some endlesse prayse to finde,
To blaze suche brute as ever might endure.
Wherfore my penne in trembling feare shall staye,
To write the thing that doth surmount my skill,
And I will wish of God both night and daye,
Some worthier place to guide hir worthy will.
Where princes peeres hir due desertes maye see,
And I content hir servaunt there to bee.
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