"You little starres that live in skyes, And glory in Apollo's glorie, In whose aspects conjoinèd lyes The Heavens will, and Natures storie, Joy to be likened to those eyes, Which eyes make all eyes glad, or sorie, For when you force thoughts from above, These over-rule your force by love.And thou ô Love, which in these eyes Hast married Reason with Affection, And made them Saints of beauties skyes, Where joyes are shadowes of perfection, Lend me thy wings that I may rise Up not by worth but thy election; For I have vow'd in strangest fashion, To love, and never seeke compassion."