* Supposed Who through his bosome dart’st thy light, the God of Within the Center sweating. earth.  If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,
              Thou _Minos_ mou’st to heare thee:  50
One of the The Rockes feele in themselues a fire, Iudges of And rise vp to come neere thee.
hell.  ’Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise
              Hearbs by their natures calling: 
              Of which some opening at thy Rise,
              And closing at thy falling. 
              Fayre _Hyacinth_ thy most lou’d Lad,
              That with the sledge thou sluest;
              Hath in a flower the life he had,
              Whose root thou still renewest, 60
              Thy _Daphne_ thy beloued Tree,
              That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,
              And thy deare _Clitia_ yet we see,
A Nimph lou’d Not time from thee can sunder;
of _Apollo_, From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew
and by him (Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)
changed into Which that fell Serpent _Python_ slew,
a flower.  Renowning thee for euer. 
              The _Actian_ and the _Pythian_ Games
Playes or Deuised were to praise thee, 70 Games in With all th’ _Apolinary_ names honor of That th’ Ancients thought could raise thee. _Apollo_.  A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,
              To thee we’ll haue erected,
              Which thou the God of Poesie
              Must care to haue protected: 
              With thy loud _Cinthus_ that shall share,
              With all his shady Bowers,
              Nor _Licia’s Cragus_ shall compare
              With this, for thee, of ours._ 80

Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue
Thrust in amongst them thronging,
Desiring they might haue the due
That was to them belonging. 
Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,
Are in his glories graced,
But it is we must build the Shryne
Wherein they must be placed;
Which of those precious Gemmes we’ll make
That Nature can affoord vs, 90
Which from that plenty we will take,
Wherewith we here have stor’d vs: 
O glorious Phoebus most diuine,
Thine Altars then we hallow. 
And with those stones we build a Shryne
To thee our wise Apollo.

  The Nimphes. No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,

(Their numbers let vs muster)
But hath from thy most powerfull beames
The Vertue and the Lustre; 100
The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
The first is to be placed,
That glory is of Diadems,
Them gracing, by them graced: 
In whom thy power the most is seene,
The raging fire refelling: 
The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
For beauty most excelling,