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Pure Platonicke.

Not Roses, ioyn'd with Lillies, make
Her ffaire; nor though her Eyes be blacke
And glorious, as th' Etheriall Qveene,
Are they my wonder; I have seene
Beautie, and scorn'd it, at fowerteene.
Not to have a Skin as smooth
As Christall; nor a Lip, nor mouth,

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Bright Cytherea's ornament;
Move me at all. Let them invent
A Dresse, to move new blandishment;
I am not taken. Not the Faire
Enchantments of well-order'd haire;
Not a Leg, nor Foot, nor hand;
Nor the parts wee vnderstand
Most attractive, mee command.
Though I give all Beautie prise
To the value of my Eyes;
Yet I doe not love a Face,
Nor dote vpon the outward grace;
These respects can have noe place.
Wee distingvish nothing to
The outward fforme, as Lovers doe;
Nor value by the rule of Sence;
Wee know noe Sexe's difference,
Equall in Pre'eminence.
To the Sympathising mind,
Neither hinder, neither bind;
But in either's brest wee move,
And Affections Equall prove:
This is pure Platonicke Love.