As good to write, as for to lie and groane,
O Stella deere, how much thy power hath wrought,
That hast my minde now of the basest brought,
My still kept course while others sleepe to moane;
Alas if from the height of Vertues throane,
Thou canst vouchsafe the influence of a thought,
Upon a wretch which long thy grace hath sought,
Way then how I by thee am overthrowne;
And then thinke thus, although thy beautie be
Made manifest, by such a victorie,
Yet noblest Conquerers doe wreake avoide;
Since then thou hast so farre subdued me,
That in my hart I offer still to thee,
O doe not let thy Temple be destroide.