The laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare,
gives me great hope of your relenting mynd:
for since it is the badg which I doe beare,
ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind:
The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find,
let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire
with sweet infusion, and put you in mind
of that proud mayd, whom now those leaves attyre:
Proud Daphne scorning Phæbus lovely fyre,
on the Thessalian shore from him did flie:
for which the gods in theyr revengefull yre
did her transforme into a laurell tree.
Then fly no more fayre love from Phebus chace,
but in your brest his leafe and love embrace.