Amour 29

    O eyes! behold your happy Hesperus,
    That luckie Load-starre of eternall light,
    Left as that sunne alone to comfort vs,
    When our worlds sunne is vanisht out of sight. 
    O starre of starres! fayre Planet mildly moouing,
    O Lampe of vertue! sun-bright, euer shyning,
    O mine eyes Comet! so admyr’d by louing,
    O cleerest day-starre! neuer more declyning. 
    O our worlds wonder! crowne of heauen aboue,
    Thrice happy be those eyes which may behold thee! 
    Lou’d more then life, yet onely art his loue
    Whose glorious hand immortal hath enrold thee! 
      O blessed fayre! now vaile those heauenly eyes,
      That I may blesse mee at thy sweet arise.

Amour 30

    Three sorts of serpents doe resemble thee;
    That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
    Th’ inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
    The weeping Crocodile; these vile pernicious three. 
    The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,
    Who for my life in secret wait do’st lye,
    And to my heart send’st poyson from thine eye: 
    Thus do I feele the paine, the cause yet cannot see. 
    Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,
    Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
    Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
    And, like a Tyrant, mak’st my griefe thy game. 
      The Crocodile, who, when thou hast me slaine,
      Lament’st my death with teares of thy disdaine.

Amour 31

    Sitting alone, loue bids me goe and write;
    Reason plucks backe, commaunding me to stay,
    Boasting that shee doth still direct the way,
    Els senceles loue could neuer once indite. 
    Loue, growing angry, vexed at the spleene,
    And scorning Reasons maymed Argument,
    Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent
    Where shee with Loue conuersing hath not beene. 
    Reason, reproched with this coy disdaine,
    Dispighteth Loue, and laugheth at her folly,
    And Loue, contemning Reasons reason wholy,
    Thought her in weight too light by many a graine. 
      Reason, put back, doth out of sight remoue,
      And Loue alone finds reason in my loue.

Amour 32

    Those teares, which quench my hope, still kindle my desire,
    Those sighes, which coole my hart, are coles vnto my loue,
    Disdayne, Ice to my life, is to my soule a fire: 
    With teares, sighes, and disdaine, this contrary I proue. 
    Quenchles desire makes hope burne, dryes my teares,
    Loue heats my hart, my hart-heat my sighes warmeth;
    With my soules fire my life disdaine out-weares,
    Desire, my loue, my soule, my hope, hart, and life charmeth. 
    My hope becomes a friend to my desire,