Barnabe Barnes - "Mistress, behold, in this true-speaking gla**" lyrics

Mistress, behold, in this true-speaking gla** Thy beauty's graces, of all women rarest, Where thou mayst find how largely they surpa** And stain in glorious loveliness the fairest. But read, sweet mistress, and behold it nearer, Pond'ring my sorrow's outrage with some pity; Then shalt thou find no worldly creature dearer Than thou to me, thyself in each love ditty. But in this mirror equally compare Thy matchless beauty with mine endless grief; There like thyself none can be found so fair, Of chiefest pains there, are my pains the chief. Betwixt these both, this one doubt shalt thou find: Whether are here extremest in their kind.