Full many are the joys of love I knowe
When I in thy deare companie may bee,
And when farre from thy side I must needs goe
These joys doe yet remain to comfort mee.
First of my joies, my hearts own dearest prize,
Is but to gaze upon thy beauty bright;
Thy cheeke of ivory, thy midnight eyes,
And haire like ravens wing, my queen of night.

Next of my joys, dear Mistresse of my minde,
Is thatt true friendshippe of my very soule
Thou giv'st to mee; in thee alone I finde
Thatt other part of mee, which makes mee whole.
Last of my joyes, my Ladie full of grace,
And none could aske a greater joy than this--
To hold thee close to mee in mine embrace,
And drink the wine of love from thy sweet kisse.

How might I dare to love an Angell bright?
My soul has surely seen thee as thou art,
From Heav'n new-stepp'd, with wings of radiant light
Enfolding thee, though mine eyes doe behold
But thatt deare lady, clad in white and gold,
Whose beauty has forever claimed my heart.

And being an Angell, thou art farre above
My mortal hopes and passion and desire;
How may I then presume to aske thy love?
If I but take thy hand, to dance with thee
May not my touch profane thy sanctity,
Condemming thee to burn with mee in fire?

Yet fire may purify and not destroy,
Bring forth unsullied gold from worthless dross--
Thus I dare hope thou mays't lead mee to joye
And shape my soule for glory in thy light;
For if I may not love thee, Angell bright,
Then surely I shall die for grief and loss.