Vertue (alas) now let me take some rest,
Thou set’st a bate betweene my will and wit;
If vaine love have my simple soule opprest,
Leave what thou lik’st not, deale not thou with it.
Thy Scepter use in some olde Catoes brest,
Churches or Schooles are for thy seat more fit:
I doe confes, (pardon a fault confest,)
My mouth too tender is for thy hard bit.
But if that needes, thou wilt usurping bee
The little reason that is left in mee.
And still th’ effect of thy perswasions proove,
I sweare, my heart such one shall shew to thee,
That shrines in flesh so true a deitie,
That Vertue, thou thy selfe shalt be in love.