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300

TERPSICHORE.
Whoso hath in the lap of soft delight
Beene long time luld, and fed with pleasures sweet,
Feareles through his own fault or Fortunes spight
To tumble into sorrow and regreet,
Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie, 305
Findes greater burthen of his miserie.
So wee, that earst in ioyance did abound,
And in the bosome of all blis did sit,
Like virgin queenes, with laurell garlands cround,
For vertues meed and ornament of wit, 310
Sith Ignorance our kingdome did confound,
Bee now become most wretched wightes on ground.
And in our royall thrones, which lately stood
In th'hearts of men to rule them carefully,
He now hath placed his accursed brood, 315
By him begotten of fowle Infamy;
Blind Error, scornefull Follie, and base Spight,
Who hold by wrong that wee should have by right.
They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing,
And make them merrie with their fooleries; 320
They cherelie chaunt, and rymes at randon fling,
The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies;
They feede the eares of fooles with flattery,
And good men blame, and losels* magnify.


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