How then? even thus in Stellas face I reede,
What love and beautie be, then all my deede
But coppying is, what in her nature writes.
Vertue (alas) now let me take some rest,
Thou set’st a bate betweene my will and wit;
If vaine love have my simple soule opprest,
Leave what thou lik’st not, deale not thou with it.
Thy Scepter use in some olde Catoes brest,
Churches or Schooles are for thy seat more fit:
I doe confes, (pardon a fault confest,)