Sonet. 11

P R etty twinckling starry eyes,
How did Nature first deuise
Such a sparkling in your sight
As to giue loue such delight
As to make him like a flye,
Play with lookes vntill he die?

Sure yee were not made at first
For such mischiefe to be curst:
As to kill affection's care,
That doth onely truth declare.
Where worthe's wonders neuer wither
Loue and Beautie liue together.

Blessed eyes then giue your blessing
That in passion's best expressing:
Loue that onely liues to grace yee
May not suffer pride deface yee.
But in gentle thoughte's directions,
Shew the praise of your perfections.