Prais'd be Diana's fair and harmless light;Prais'd be the dews wherewith she moists the ground;Prais'd be her beams, the glory of the night;Prais'd be her power by which all powers abound.
Prais'd be her nymphs with whom she decks the woods,Prais'd be her knights in whom true honour lives;Prais'd be that force by which she moves the floods;Let that Diana shine which all these gives.
In heaven queen she is among the spheres;In aye she mistress-like makes all things pure;Eternity in her oft change she bears;She beauty is; by her the fair endure.
Time wears her not: she doth his chariot guide;Mortality below her orb is plac'd;By her the virtue of the stars down slide;In her is virtue's perfect image cast.
A knowledge pure it is her worth to know: With Circes let them dwell that think not so.
