226
Tixall Poetry.
On Saint Catherines Day.
You glorious saint, tho borne of royall blood,
All greatness scorn'd but that of being good.
Tho learn'd in many knowledges, were still,
Best knowing, and most practising God's will.
And tho more fayre than is the rosy morne,
The charmes of vertue did you most adorne.
Pra'y, I not great, not wise, not fayre may seeme,
In the world's false, but in heaven's just esteeme.
Gert. Aston.
All greatness scorn'd but that of being good.
Tho learn'd in many knowledges, were still,
Best knowing, and most practising God's will.
And tho more fayre than is the rosy morne,
The charmes of vertue did you most adorne.
Pra'y, I not great, not wise, not fayre may seeme,
In the world's false, but in heaven's just esteeme.
Gert. Aston.
