Poore hopes first wealth a stage of promised weale.
Breakefast of love, but loe, loe where shee is
Cease we to praise, now praie wee for a kisse.
Sweet swelling lip well maiest thou swell in pride
Since best wittes thinke it witt thee to admire,
Natures praise, vertues stall, Cupids colde fire,
Whence words, not words but heavenly graces slide,
The newe Pernassus where the Muses byde:
Sweeteness of Musicke, Wisomes beautifier,
Breather of life, and fastner of desire,