O happie Thames that didst my Stella beare,
I saw thee with full many a smiling line
Upon thy cheereful face loves Livery weare:
While those faire Plannets on thy streames did shine,
The boat for joy could not to dance forbeare,
While wanton winds with beautie so divine
Ravisht, staid not, til in her golden haire
They did themselves (รด sweetest prison) twine.
But faine those friendly winds there would their stay
Have made, but forst by Nature still to flie,
First did with puffing kisse those Lockes display:
She so discovered, blusht. From window I
With sight thereof cride out; Ah faire disgrace,
Let honours selfe to thee graunt highest place.