Angles to acquaintance bringeth.
11 Stella, in whose bodie is
Writ the carecters of blis:
Whose sweete face all beautie passeth,
Save the minde which it surpasseth.
12 Graunt, ô graunt, but speach (alas)
Failes me, fearing on to passe:
Graunt to me, what am I saying?
But no sinne there is in praying.
13 Graunt (ô Deare) on knees I pray