My mouth too tender is for thy hard bit.
But if that needes, thou wilt usurping bee
The little reason that is left in mee.
And still th’ effect of thy perswasions proove,
I sweare, my heart such one shall shew to thee,
That shrines in flesh so true a deitie,
That Vertue, thou thy selfe shalt be in love.
It is most true, that eyes are found to serve
The inward light: and that the heavenly part
Ought to be King, from whose rules who doth swerve,