I doubt nothing of her reward, For my desert but well I trust, As she hath beauty to allure, (30) So hath she a hart that will recure.
That nature which worketh all thinges
for our behoofe, hath made wo-
men also for our comfort
and delight. +
A Mong dame natures workes such perfite law is wrought, That things be ruled by course of kind in order as they ought. And serueth in their state, in such iust frame and sort, That slender wits may iudge the same, and make therof report. (5) Behold what secrete force the winde doth easely show, Which guides the ships amid the seas if he his bellowes blow. The waters waxen wilde where blustering blastes do rise, Yet seldome do they passe their bondes for nature that deuise. The fire which boiles the leade, and trieth out the gold: (10) Hath in his power both help and hurt, if he his force vnfold. The frost which kils the fruite, doth knit the brused bones: And is a medecin of kinde, prepared for the nones. The earth in whose entrails the foode of man doth liue, At euery spring and fall of leafe, what pleasure doth she giue? (15) The ayre which life desires, and is to helth so swete, Of nature yeldes such liuely smelles, that comforts euery sprete. The Sunne through natures might, doth draw away the dew, And spredes the flowers wher he is wont his princely face to shew. The Moone which may be cald, the lanterne of the night, (20) Is halfe a guide to traueling men, such vertue hath her light. The sters not vertuelesse are beauty to the eyes, A lodes man to the Mariner; a signe of calmed skyes. The flowers and fruitfull trees to man do tribute pay, And when they haue their duety done by course they fade away. (25) Eche beast both fishe and foule, doth offer life and all, To nourish man and do him ease, yea serue him at his call. The serpentes venemous, whose vglye shapes we hate, Are soueraigne salues for sondry sores, and nedefull in their state. Sith nature shewes her power, in eche thing thus at large, (30) Why should not man submit himselfe to be in natures charge?