Awake my Muse, and leaue to dreame of loues,
Shake off soft fancies chaines, I must be free,
Ile perch no more, vpon the mirtle tree,
Nor glide through th'aire with beauties sacred doues;
But with Ioues stately bird Ile leaue my nest,
And trie my sight against Apolloes raies:
Then if that ought my ventrous course dismaies,
Vpon the Oliues boughs Ile light and rest:
Ile tune my accents to a trumpet now,
And seeke the Laurell in another field,
Thus I that once, as Beautie meanes did yeeld,
Did diuers garments on my thoughts bestow:
Like Icarus I feare, vnwisely bold,
Am purpos'd others passions now t'vnfold.