Now Time’s Andromeda on this rock rude
With not her either beauty’s equal or
Her injury’s, looks off by both horns of shore
Her flower, her piece of being, doomed dragon’s food
Time past she has been attempted and pusued
By many blows and banes; but now hears roar
A wilder best from West than all were, more
Rife in her wrongs, more lawless, and more lewd
Her Perseus linger and leave her to her extremes?
Pillowy air he treads a time and hangs
His thoughts on her, forsaken that she seems
All while her patinence, morselled into pangs
Mounts; then to alight disarming, no one dreams
With Gorgon’s gear and barebill, thongs and fangs.
The best idea lis the true
And onother truth is none
All glory be ascribed to
The holy Three in One.