And, which, in absence, will more truely show me,
Than, outward Formes, to those, who think they know me.
For, though my gratious Maker made me such,
That, where I love, belov'd I am, as much
As J desire; yet, Forme, nor Features are,
Those Ornaments, in which J would appeare
To future Times; Though they were found in me,
Farre better, than I can beleeve they be.
Much lesse, affect I that, which each man knowes,
To be no more, but Counterfeits of those,