I AM return'd, my Fair, but see
Perfection in none but thee,
Yet many Beauties I have seen,
And in that search a Truant been,
Through fruitles curiositie.

II

I've been to see each bleer-ey'd star
Fond men durst with thy light compare;
And to my admiration finde,
That all, but I, in love are blinde,
And none, but thee, divinely fair.

III

Here then I fix, and now grown wise
All objects, but thy face, despise;
Taught by my folly now I swear,
If you forgive mee, nere to erre
Nor seek impossibilities.