Ad Illustrissimum Dominum, Poem by John Ashmore

Nor generous 'haviour, nor thy browes sweet Graces,
Nor Mildnes which thy Genivs still imbraces:
Nor Fame, which thou didst finde in forain Lands,
And with her wings here fairely on thee fannes:
Nor vertues rare, with Fortunes gifts attended,
Nor bountie to the Muses so commended,
To thee mens eyes and hearts drawes, and ith' scrowle
Of true Nobilitie doth thee inrowle:
But, what it is, soon wouldst thou understand?
All these, in Thee alone, ioyn'd hand in hand.