467But rather vertue sin, synne vertue deemd,

468Her hair far softor then the silke wormes twist,

469Like to a flattering glas doth make more faire,

470The yelow Amber like a flattering glas,

471Comes in to soone: for writing of her eies,

472Ile say that like a glas they catch the sunne,

473And thence the hot reflection doth rebounde,

474Against my brest and burnes my hart within,

475Ah what a world of descant makes my soule,

476Vpon this voluntarie ground of loue,

477Come Lodwick hast thou turnd thy inke to golde,

478If not, write but in letters Capitall my mistres name,

479And it wil guild thy paper, read Lorde, reade,

480Fill thou the emptie hollowes of mine eares,

481With the sweete hearing of thy poetrie.

482Lo: I haue not to a period brought her praise.

483King: Her praise is as my loue, both infinit,

484Which apprehend such violent extremes,

485That they disdaine an ending period.

486Her bewtie hath no match but my affection,

487Hers more then most, myne most, and more then more,

488Hers more to praise then tell the sea by drops,

489Nay more then drop the massie earth by sands,

490And said, by said, print them in memorie,

491Then wherefore talkest thou of a period,

492To that which craues vnended admiration.

493Read let vs heare,

494Lo: More faire and chast then is the queen of shades:

495King: That loue hath two falts grosse and palpable,

496Comparest thou her to the pale queene of night,

497Who being set in darke seemes therefore light,

498What is she, when the sunne lifts vp his head,

499But like a fading taper dym and dead.

500My loue shall braue the ey of heauen at noon,

501And being vnmaskt outshine the golden sun,

502Lo: What is the other faulte, my soueraigne Lord,