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A youthful suit —it was to gain my grace—

O, one by nature’s outwards so commended

That maidens’ eyes stuck over all his face.

Love lacked a dwelling and made him her place,

And when in his fair parts she did abide

She was new-lodged and newly deified.

‘His browny locks did hang in crookèd curls,

And every light occasion of the wind

Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.

What’s sweet to do, to do will aptly find.

Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,

For on his visage was in little drawn

What largeness thinks in paradise was sawn.

‘Small show of man was yet upon his chin;

His phoenix down began but to appear,

Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin

Whose bare outbragged the web it seemed to wear;

Yet showed his visage by that cost more dear,

And nice affections wavering stood in doubt

If best were as it was, or best without.

‘His qualities were beauteous as his form,

For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free.

Yet if men moved him, was he such a storm

As oft twixt May and April is to see

When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.

His rudeness so with his authorized youth

Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

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