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Nor when I did suspend th’infernall flame,
Nor when I sawe Pluto, nor that, that kils
My soule with greefe, when I lookt backe to see,
If that Euridice did follow me.

But I will sing with pure and sweetest voice
Of those perfections, and that grace display,
That wisedome, wit and beautie of such choice,
Of those who doe illustrate Spaine this day.
Then see her (Nymphes) whose beautie doth reioice
Vs all: her great Diana, and her gay
And goodly traine, on whom both Gods and men
Cannot ynough imploy their toongs and pen.

Lift vp your eies this Lady to beholde,
That heere is sitting in this highest chaire,
With scepter neere to her and crowne of golde,
And angrie fortune by her on the staire:
This is the star that Spaines light did enfolde,
Whose absence now her glory doth impaire:
Her name is Lady Mary that hath beene
Of Hungarie, Boeme, and of Austrie Queene.

The next that sits to her, is Lady Iane
Princesse of Portugall and of Castille
The Infant, and from whom fortune had tane
The crowne and scepter by her turning wheele:
And vnto whom death was so inhumane,
That in her selfe great wonder she doth feele,
To see how soone she did stretch forth her hands
On her, that was the light of Lusitans.

Behold (faire Nymphes) that Lady Mary great
And soueraigne Infant of her
Portugall:
Whose grace and beautie hath this day a seate,
Where humane thought could neuer reach at all:
Behold, though cruell for tune there doth threat:
Her wisedome yet doth count of her but small:
For time, and death, and destinie cannot
Conquere her goodnes, vertues, and her lot.

Those two that are by her on either side,
Whose beauties Titans brightnesse doe offend:
Their sleeues of gold, their gownes of damaske tide
With pearle, and where faire Emerauldes depend:
Their curled golden lockes, wauing so wide
Vpon their shoulders, loose that doe descend:
Daughters they are of th’Infant Lusitanc:
Duarta the valiant, and great Cristiane.