Whose head befringed with bescattered tresses
Seemes like Apollo's when the morne he blesses
Or like vnto Aurora when shee setts
her long disheuel'd rose=crown'd tramaletts
Her forehead smooth full polisht bright and high
bares in it selfe a gracefull maiestye
Vnder the which twoe crawling eyebrowes twine
like to the tendrells of a flattring vine
Vnder whose shades Twoe starry sparkling eyes
are beawtifi'd with faire fring'd canopies
Her comly nose with vniformall grace
like purest white stands in the middle place
Parting the paire as wee may well suppose
each cheeke resembling still a damaske rose
Which like a garden manifestly showe
how roses lillies and carnations grow
which sweetly mixed both with white and redd
like rose leaues, white and redd seeme mingled
Ther nature for a sweet allurement setts
twoe smelling swelling bashful Cherriletts
The which with ruby rednes being tipt
doe speake a virgin merry cherry=lip't
Over the which a meet sweet skin is drawne
Which makes them shewe like roses vnder lawne
These be the Ruby portalls and devine
Which ope themselves to shewe an holy shrine
Whose breath is rich perfume, that to the sence
smells like the burnt Sabaean ffrankinsense
In which the tongue, though but a member small
stands garded with a rosy hilly wall
And her white teeth which in the gumms are sett
Like pearle and gold make one rich Carcenett
Next doth her chinne with dimpled beawty striue
ffor his plumpe white and smooth prerogatiue
At whose faire topp to please the sight there growes
the blessed Image of a blushing rose
mou'd by the chinne whose motion causeth this
That both her lipps doe part doe meete doe kisse.
Her eares which like twoe Laborinths are plac'd
on either side with rich rare Jewells grac'd
mooving a question whether that by them
the Jem is grac'd? or they grac'd by the Jemme
But the foundacion of this Architect
is the swan=stayning faire rare stately neck
which with ambitious humblenes stands vnder
bearing aloft this rich round world of wonder
In which the veynes ymplanted seeme to lye
like loving vines hid vnder Ivorye
Soe full of clarrett that whoe soe pricks a vine
may see it sprout forth streames of muscadine
Her brest (a place for beawtyes throne most fitt)
beares vp twoe globes where loue and pleasure sitt
Which headed with twoe rich round rubies showe
like wanton rose buds growing out of snowe
And in the milky vally that's betweene
sits Cupid kissing of his mother Queene
Fingring the paps that feele like sleeded silke
And prest a little they will weepe new milke
Then comes the belly seated next belowe
like a faire mountaine of Riphean snowe
Where nature in a whitenes without spott
hath in the middle ty'de a Gordian knott
Or ells that she on that white waxen hill
hath seal'd the promise of her vtmost skill
But now my muse hath spi'de a darke descent
from this soe peereles pretious prominent,
A milky high waye that direction yeilds
Vnto the port mouth of th'Elisian feilds
A place desir'd of all but got by theis
whome loue admitts to this Hesperides
Heres golden fruit that farre exceeds all price
growing in this loue garded paradice
Aboue the entrance there is written this
this is the portall to the bowre of bliss
Through mid'st thereof a christall stream there flowes
passing the sweet sweet of a musky rose
Now loue invites me to survey her thighes
swelling in likenes like twoe christall skyes
With plumpe soft flesh of mettle pure & fine
Resembling sheilds both smooth and christalline
Hence rise those twoe ambitious hills that looke
into the middle moste sight pleasing crooke
Which for the better beawtifying shrowdes
its humble selfe twixt twoe aspiring cloudes
Which to the knees by nature fastned on
deriue their ever well grac'd motion
her leggs with twoe cleire calues like silver tride
Kindly swell vp with little pretty pride
Leaving a distance for the beawtious small
to beawtify the legg and foote withall
Then lowly yet most louely stand the feete
Round short and cleire, like pounded spices sweete
And whatsoever thing they tread vpon
They make it scent like bruized Cinnamon
The lovely shoulders now allure the eye
To see two tablets of pure Ivory
from which two armes like branches seem to spread
With tender ryne and silver coloured,
With little hands & fingers long and small
To grace a Lute a vyall Virginall.
In length each finger doth his next excell
Each richly headed with a pearly shell
Richer then that faire pretious virtuos horne
That armes the forehead of the Vnicorne
Thus every part in contrariety
Meets in the whole and maks a harmony
As divers strings do singly disagree
But form'd by number make sweet melody
Vnto the Idoll of the work devine
I consecrate this loving work of mine
Bowing my lips vnto that stately root
Whence beawty springs, and thus I kisse thy foot. . . . . . . . .