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1   III|  well knew her, though her painted shield~And golden helm he
2    VI|   an hundred ugly fashions painted,~And if she slept, then
3   XII|  Her prison was a chamber, painted round~With goodly portraits
4   XVI| turn thine eyes to me,~For painted in my heart and portrayed
5  XVII|   Apelles so, pardie,~Erst painted Jove, Jove thundering down
6  XVII|     Look up, my child,~And painted in this precious shield
7 XVIII|  such as we see~The Dryads painted whom wild Satyrs love,~Whose