Sutch power of porte, sutch maiesty most gret
I tremble to beholde, and do confesse
My lot to base, so worthy a blisse to get.
But will herein my Reason doth suppresse,
And those fayre eyes, where loue himselfe ny lies,
Armed with lookes of ioy and gentlenesse,
Lookes that vpliftes my soule aboue the Skies,
And in each coast al cloudes expelling cleane,
Do teach ten thousand pathes to Paradise.
My Goddesse braue, Angelicall Sirene,