Here you will find the Poem Licia Sonnets 24 of poet Giles Fletcher Senior
When as my love lay sickly in her bed, Pale death did post in hope to have a prey; But she so spotless made him that he fled; "Unmeet to die," she cried, and could not stay. Back he retired, and thus the heavens he told; "All things that are, are subject unto me, Both towns, and men, and what the world doth hold; But her fair Licia still immortal be." The heavens did grant; a goddess she was made, Immortal, fair, unfit to suffer change. So now she lives, and never more shall fade; In earth a goddess, what can be more strange? Then will I hope, a goddess and so near, She cannot choose my sighs and prayers but hear.