Her rosie cheekes, her euer smiling eyes,
Are Spheares and beds where Loue in triumph lies :
Her rubine lips, when they their pearle vnlocke,
Make them seeme as they did rise
All out of one smooth Currall Rocke.
O that of other Creatures store I knew
More worthy, and more rare :
For these are old, and shee so new,
That her to them none should compare.

O could she loue, would shee but heare a friend ;
Or that she only knew what sighs pretend.
Her lookes inflame, yet cold as Ice is shee.
Doe or speake, all's to one end,
For what shee is that will shee be.
Yet will I neuer cease her prayse to sing,
Though she giues no regard :
For they that grace a worthlesse thing
Are onely greedy of reward.