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To Miracle
To Miracle
Some misbeleeuing, and prophane in Loue,
When I doe speake of Miracles by thee,
May say, that thou art flattered by mee,
Who onely write, my skill in Verse to proue;
See Miracles, ye vnbeleeuing, see,
A dumbe-borne Muse made to expresse the Mind,
A cripple Hand to write, yet lame by Kind,
One by thy Name, the other touching thee;
Blind were mine Eyes, till they were seene of thine,
And mine Eares deafe, by thy Fame healed bee,
My Vices cur’d, by Vertues sprung from thee,
My Hopes reuiu’d, which long in Graue had lyne:
All vncleane Thoughts, foule Spirits cast out in mee,
Onely by Vertue that proceeds from thee.