When every one to pleasing pastime hies
Some hunt, some hauke, some play, while some delight
In sweet discourse, and musique showes joys might
Yett I my thoughts doe farr above thes prise.

The joy which I take, is that free from eyes
I sitt, and wunder att this daylike night
Soe to dispose them-selves, as voyd of right;
And leave true pleasure for poore vanities;

When others hunt, my thoughts I have in chase;
If hauke, my minde att wished end doth fly,
Discourse, I with my spiritt tauke, and cry
While others, musique choose as greatest grace.

O God, say I, can thes fond pleasures move?
Or musique bee butt in sweet thoughts of love?