Why should I any love O queene but thee?
If favour past a thankful love should breed?
Thy womb did bear, thy breast my saviour feed;
And thou did'st never cease to succour me.
If Love do follow worth and dignity?
Thou all in thy perfections dost exceed:
If Love be led by hope of future meed?
What pleasure more than thee in heaven to see?
And earthly sight doth only please the eye
And breeds desire, but doth not satisfy:
Thy sight gives us possession of all joy,
And with such full delights each sense shall fill,
As heart shall wish but for to see thee still,
And ever seeing, ever shall enjoy.