[Lyric] To St. Katherine (Henry Constable)

Because thou wast the daughter of a king,
Whose beauty did all nature's works exceed,
And wisdom, wonder to the world did breed,
A Muse might raise itself on Cupid's wing.
But since these graces which from Nature spring
Were graced by those which from grace did proceed,
And glory hath deserved; my muse doth need
An Angel's feathers when thy praise I sing.
For all in thee became Angelical:
An Angel's face, had Angel's purity:
And thou an Angel's tongue did'st speak withal.
Loe why thy soul set free by Martyrdom,
Was crowned by God in Angels' company,
And Angels' hands thy body did entomb.