Delighted by the diverse grace
Of musick & so faire a face
First all my soule is in mine eye
But then the sweet voice doth deny
Your Beauties title & presence
And sowes Division twixt my sence.

Thus you your owne chiefe Rivall are
(If for so poor a prize you care)
To mee it is almost the same
To perish in one single flame,
Or first divided by desires
To bee disperst to different fires
But I mistake it is one flame
Which from your voice & beauty came
They interchange their killing grace
First harmony dwells in the face
And then your sweetest voice can find
Ways to teach beauty to the blind.