As good to write as for to lie and groan, Oh Stella dear, how much thy power hath wrought, That hast my mind, none of the basest, brought My still-kept course, while others sleep, to moan. Alas, if from the height of Virtue's throne, Thou canst vouchsafe the influence of a thought Upon a wretch, that long thy grace hath sought;
Weigh then how I by thee am overthrown: And then, think thus, although thy beauty be Made manifest by such a victory, Yet noblest conquerors do wrecks avoid. Since then thou hast so far subdued me, That in my heart I offer still to thee, Oh do not let thy Temple be destroyed.