E'rst noble Conway , you once warded way ,
Drawing unto our Soveraigne without stay;
With pitty, and with mercy rare excelling,
Ah poore complaynants, who for grief were yelling,
Relying upon you, to you they pray,
Drawn by your pitty, you ward them the way .

Charles our great Monarch, when with nimble eye
On you reflecting, pitty he did spie.
Naturally within you to abide;
VVarding the way ; no longer he would hide
A way from you his gracious inclination,
Your worth deserving, straight your exaltation
Ensued by a glorious constellation.