Clothde with fine tropes with strongest reason lin’d,
Or els pronouncing grace, wherewith his minde
Prints his owne lively forme, in rudest braine.
Now judge by this, in pearcing phrases late
Th’ Anatomie of all my woes I wrate,
Stellas sweete breath the same to me did reede.
Oh voyce, oh face mauger my speeches might,
With wooed woe, most ravishing delight,
Even in sad mee a joy to me did breede.
Deere, why make you more of a dogge than me?