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‘“The diamond? —why, ’twas beautiful and hard,

Whereto his invised properties did tend;

The deep-green em’rald, in whose fresh regard

Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;

The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend

With objects manifold; each several stone,

With wit well blazoned, smiled or made some moan.

‘“Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,

Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,

Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,

But yield them up where I myself must render–

That is to you, my origin and ender;

For these of force must your oblations be,

Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

‘“O then advance of yours that phraseless hand

Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise.

Take all these similes to your own command,

Hallowed with sighs that burning lungs did raise.

What me, your minister for you, obeys,

Works under you, and to your audit comes

Their distract parcels in combinèd sums.

‘“Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,

A sister sanctified of holiest note,

Which late her noble suit in court did shun,

Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;

For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,

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