Innumerable Beauties, thou white haire
Spredde forth like to a Region of the Aire,
Curl’d like a sea, and like Etheriall fire
Dost from thy vitall principles aspire
To bee the highest Element of faire,
From thy proud heights, thou so commandst desire
That when it would presume, it grows, dispare,
And from it selfe a Vengeance doth require,
While absolute in that thy braue command
Knittinge each haire, into an awfull frowne
Like to an Hoste of Lightninges, thou dost stand
To ruine all that fall not prostrate downe;
While to the humble like a beamy Crowne
Thou seemest wreathed, by some immortall Hande.