University of Virginia Library

viii. To my Ladye Mary Wroath.

For beautye onlye, armd with outward grace,
I scorne to yeeld, to conquerre, or to striue;
Let shallow thoughtes that can no deeper dyue,
As fits their weaknesse, rest vpon a face.
But when rare partes a heunlye shape confines,
Scarce reacht by thoughtes, not subiect to the sight,
Yet but the lanterne of a greater light,
Wher worth accomplisht crownd with glorie shines,
Then when bright vertue raignes in beautyes throne,
And doth the hart by spirituall magick moue,
Whilst reasone leads though passiones follow loue,
Lothd may hee be that likes not such a one.
If it not lou'd so braue a mynd thus shown,
I hated had the basenesse of myne own.