Of others children changelings use to make,
With mee those paines for good now doe not take,
I list not dig so deepe for brasen fame.
When I see Stella, I doe meane the same
Princesse of beautie, for whose onely sake,
The raynes of love I love, though never slake;
And joy therein, though Nations count it shame:
I begge no subject to use eloquence,
Nor in hid waies to guide Philosophie,
Looke at my hands for no such quintessence,