III.

The soverayne beauty which I doo admyre, Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed! The light wherof hath kindled heavenly fyre In my fraile spirit, by her from basenesse raysed; That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view: But, looking still on her, I stand amazed At wondrous sight of so celestiall hew. So when my toung would speak her praises dew, It stopped is with thoughts astonishment; And when my pen would write her titles true, It ravisht is with fancies wonderment: Yet in my hart I then both speak and write The wonder that my wit cannot endite.