Yee Living Powers enclosde in stately shryne,
Of growyng Trees, yee Rurall goddes that weelde,
Youre scepters here, yf to youre eares devyne,
A voyce may come w ch trubled sowle dothe yeelde.
This vowe receyve, this vowe O goddes meyntayne,
My virgyn Lyfe no spotted thoughte shall stayne.
Thow purest stone, whose purenes dothe present,
My purest mynde, whose Temper, hardd dothe shewe:
My Tempered hart, by thee my promyse sent
Unto my self; Lett after Livers knowe;
No fancy myne, nor others wronge suspect,
Make mee (O vertuous shame,) thy Lawes neglect.
O Chastity the cheef of Heavenly Lightes,
Whiche makes us moste Immortall shape to beare,
Holde thow my Harte, establish thow my Spirites
To onely thee, my Constant Course I beare,
Till spottles sowle unto thy bosome flye,
Suche lyfe to leade, suche Deathe I vowe to dye.