Splendour! O more than mortal,

For other forms come short all

Of her   illustrate brightness,

As far as sin’s from lightness.

Her wit as quick and  sprightful 5

As fire, and more delightful

Than the stol’n sports of lovers,

When night their  meeting covers.

Judgement, adorned with learning,

Doth shine in her discerning, 10

Clear as a naked  vestal

Closed in an orb of crystal.

Her breath  for sweet exceeding

The Phoenix’  place of breeding,

But mixed with sound, transcending 15

All nature of commending.

Alas! Then whither  wade I,

In thought to praise this lady,

When, seeking her renowning,

Myself am so near drowning? 20

Retire, and say  ‘Her graces

Are deeper than their faces,

Yet she’s   nor nice to show them,

Nor takes she pride to know them.’