Eternal Twins! that conquer death and time, Perpetual advocates in heaven and earth! Fair, chaste, immaculate, and all divine, Glorious alone, before the first man's birth; Your twofold charities, celestial lights, Bow your sun-rising eyes, planets of joy, Upon these orphan poems; in whose rights Conceit first claimed his birthright to enjoy. If, pitiful, you shun the song of death, Or fear the stain of love's life-dropping blood, O know then, you are pure; and purer faith Shall still keep white the flower, the fruit, and bud. Love moveth all things. You that love, shall move All things in him, and he in you shall love. RICHARD SMITH.[A] [Footnote A: Richard Smith was the publisher of the 1594 edition of the _Diana_.] TO HIS MISTRESS Grace full of grace, though in these verses here My love complains of others than of thee, Yet thee alone I loved, and they by me, Thou yet unknown, only mistaken were. Like him which feels a heat now here now there, Blames now this cause now that, until he see The fire indeed from whence they caused be; Which fire I now do know is you, my dear, Thus diverse loves dispersed in my verse In thee alone for ever I unite, And fully unto thee more to rehearse; To him I fly for grace that rules above, That by my grace I may live in delight, Or by his grace I never more may love. TO HIS ABSENT DIANA Severed from sweet content, my live's sole light, Banished by over-weening wit from my desire, This poor acceptance only I require: That though my fault have forced me from thy sight Yet that thou would'st, my sorrows to requite, Review these sonnets, pictures of thy praise; Wherein each woe thy wondrous worth doth raise, Though first thy worth bereft me of delight. See them forsaken; for I them forsook, Forsaken first of thee, next of my sense; And when thou deign'st on their black tears to look, Shed not one tear, my tears to recompence; But joy in this, though fate 'gainst me repine, My verse still lives to witness thee divine. THE FIRST DECADE I _Only of the birth and beginning of love_ Resolved to love, unworthy to obtain, I do no favour crave; but, humble wise, To thee my sighs in verse I sacrifice, Only some pity and no help to gain. Hear then, and as my heart shall aye remain A patient object to thy lightning eyes, A patient ear bring thou to thund'ring cries; Fear not the crack, when I the blow sustain. So as thine eye bred mine ambitious thought, So shall thine ear make proud my voice for joy. Lo, dear, what wonders great by thee are wrought, When I but little favour do enjoy! The voice is made the ear for to rejoice, And your ear giveth pleasure to my voice. II