Bright beames imparked are within your brest,
A dorning your deserts which in you rest
Resplendently, raising a fulgent ray,
Notably so making asham'd the day;
And so proclaiming rightly, that in you
Bright beames of vertue shine to each ones view,
As parked it within your soule and body,
Shewing a lustee that may truely glad ye:

Making who looke upon you, to confesse,
A parke you are indeed Sir, and no lesse,
Calling but truth to witnesse, we must cry:
Glimpsing but at your glorious bravery:
In your bright beames we cannot choose but see,
Luster most truely, noble is in thee:
Parks then most rightly we must you confesse,
And waying of your vertues no what lesse
Then a most large circumference of ground,
Rightly that can so many graces bound:
If then a Parke you be and bright beames there,
Call forth you can making their light appeare,
Keepe evermore this Parke true noble still,
Eternall honour so your heart shall fill.