Eternal God in his almighty powre, | To make ensample of his heauenly grace, | In Paradize whilome did plant this flowre, | Whence he it fetcht out of her natiue place, | And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace, | That mortall men her glory should admire | In gentle Ladies brest, and bounteous race | Of woman kind it fairest flowre doth spire, | And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desire.
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