Why covet I thy blessed eyes to see,
Whose sweet aspect may cheer the saddest mind?
Why, when our bodies must divided be,
Can I no hour of rest or pleasure find?
Why do I sleeping start, and waking moan,
To find that of my dreamed hopes I miss?
Why do I often contemplate alone
Of such a thing as thy perfection is?
And wherefore, when we meet, doth passion stop
My speechless tongue, and leave me in a panting?
Why doth my heart, o'ercharged with fear and hope
(In spite of reason), almost droop to fainting?
Because in me thy excellences moving
Have drawn me to an excellence in loving.