One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make [dark heaven] light.
Such comfort as do lusty [young men] feel
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh [female] buds shall you this night
[Inherit] at my house. Hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be;
[Which on more view] of many, mine being one