ABSTRACT
No towne there is, but up my Image settes, But sacrifice to me doth dayly make: Whether where PhtEbus joyne his morning steedes, Or where the night them weary entertaines, Or where the heat the Garamante doth scorch, 1370 Or where the colde from Boreas breath is blowne: All CtEsar do both awe and honor beare, And crowned Kings his verie name doth feare.
