Nor do like lords, whose weak, confused brain,
Not pointing to fit folks each undercharge,
While ev’ry office themselves will discharge,
With doing all, leave nothing done but pain.
But give apt servants their due place; let eyes
See beauty’s total sum, summ’d in her face;
Let ears hear speech, which wit to wonder ties;
Let breath suck up those sweets; let arms embrace
The globe of weal; lips, Love’s indentures make;
Thou, but of all the kingly tribute take!”