A peerelesse Paragon,
OR,
Few so chast, so beautious or so faire,
for with my love I think none can compare.
To the tune of the mother beguild the daughter.
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IN times of yore, sure men did doate,
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and beauty never knew:
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Else women were not of that note,
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as daily come to view.
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For read of all the faces then
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that did most brightly shine,
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Be judgd by all true judging men,
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they were not like to mine.
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King Pryam loved Hecuba,
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and thought her wondrous faire,
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But had he seene mine, I dare say
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there had beene no compare.
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Stout Hector held Andromicha
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a stately beautious Queene,
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But shes, no Troylus Cressida,
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yet faire as ere was seene:
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Nay all the faces Jupiter
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did like and phansie most,
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Are to her substance shadowes meere
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of whom I make my boast:
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Surely you wonder what she is,
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whose beauty I proclaime,
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Ile tell you truely, and not misse
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though she be without name.
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My love shee is the Non-pareil
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of all that ere was seene,
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And had not Venus come ith way
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shee had been beauties Queene:
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Her comely feature, lovely lookes,
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I will describe at large,
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God Cupid puts her in his bookes,
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and of this Jem takes charge.
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The Grecian Helen was a Moore,
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compard with my deare Saint,
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The faire facd Hyrens beauty poore,
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and yet shee does not paynt,
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Andromeda whom Perseus lovd,
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was blacker then the night,
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Her lineaments so well approvd
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in praise of them ile write.
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Queene Vesta for her chastitie
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with her may not compare,
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Nor Lucrece for her honestie,
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shees like the Phenix rare:
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A Sommers day I could commend
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her parts weret nere so long,
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But yet her parts so farre extend,
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I feare to doe her wrong.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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BUt yet my tongue cannot refraine
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to set her praises forth;
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Then list, and ile describe her plaine
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and show you her true worth:
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Her haire not like the golden wire
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but black as any Crow;
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Her beetle browes, all men admire,
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her forehead wondrous low.
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Her squinting, staring, goggle eyes
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poore children doe affright,
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Her nose is of the Sarazens size,
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oh shees a matchlesse wight.
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Her eares so hound like, that they fall
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upon her shoulder bone,
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I know not truly how to call
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her, shees such a worthy one.
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Her oven mouth, wide open stands,
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her teeth like rotten pease;
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Her blabber lips my heart commands,
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her neck all bit with fleas:
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Her tawnie duggs like two great hills,
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hang Sow-like to her wast,
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Her bodies round as a wind mill,
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and yet I hold her chast.
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Her belly tun-like to behold,
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no more shall be exprest,
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But if the truth were plainely told,
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Im sure they are the best:
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Her brawnie blind cheeks plump and round
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as any Horse of war,
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Her speckled thighs they are not sound
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her knees like hoggs heads are.
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Her leggs are like the Elephants,
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the calfe and small all one,
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Her ancles they together meet,
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and still knock bone to bone;
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Her pretty foot not bove th eighteenes
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so splaid as never was,
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An excellent usher for a man
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that walks the dewy grasse.
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Her shoulders are so Camel-like,
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sheed make an excellent Porter,
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I vow I never knew her like.
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if any man consort her.
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No shoulder of mutton like her hand
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for thicknes, breadth, and fat,
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With a scurvy mange upon her wrest,
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oh Jove how I love that.
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Thus have you heard my Love set forth
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and yet no flatterie usd,
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Your judgement, is shee not of worth,
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let her not be abusd.
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If any to her have a mind,
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hee wrongs mee many waies;
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For as shees beautious, so shees kind,
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and here conclude my praise.
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