"Cynthia, whose glories are at Full for ever, Whose beauties draw forth teares, and kindle fires, Fires, which kindled once are quenchèd never, So beyond hope your worth beares up desires.Why cast you clouds on your sweet looking eyes? Are you afraid they shew me too much pleasure? Strong Nature decks the grave wherein it lyes, Excellence can never be exprest in measure.Are you afraid, because my heart adores you? The world will thinke I hold Endymion's place Hippolytus, sweet Cynthia, kneel'd before you, Yet did you not come downe to kisse his face. Angells enjoy the heavens inward Quires: Starre-gazers only multiply desires."