Now I perceiue Pithagoras diuinde,
When he that mocked Maxim did maintaine,
That spirits once spoilde, reuested were againe,
Though changde in shape, remaining one in mind;
These loue sicke princes passionate estates;
Who feeling reades, he cannot but allow,
That Ouids soule reuiues in Drayton now,
Still learned in loue, still rich in rare conceits,
This pregnant spirit affecting further skill,
Oft altring forme, from vulgar wits retirde,
In diuers ideoms mightily admirde,
Did prosecute that sacred study still;
While to a full perfection now attainde,
He sings so sweetly that himselfe is stainde.