No More Learning

Chayne thousand vassalls in like thrall with mee,
W^{ch} in thy glory mayst thou still despise, 10
As the poore Trophyes of that victory
Which thou hast onely purchasd by thine eyes;
And when thy Triumphs so           are
That there is nought left to bee conquered,
Mayst thou with the great Monarchs mournfull care 15
Weepe that thine Hono^{rs} are so limited;
So thy disdayne may melt it selfe to love
By an unlookd for and a wondrous change,
W^{ch} to thy selfe above the rest must prove
In all th'effects of love paynefully strange, 20
While wee thy scorned subjects live to see
Thee love the whole world, none of it love thee.