The curious wits, seeing dull pensivenes Bewray it selfe in my long setled eyes: Whence those same fumes of mellancholie rise, With idle paines and missing ayme do gesse; Some that know how, my spring I did adresse, Deem’d that my Muse some fruite of knowledge plyes: Others, because the Prince my service tryes, Thinke that I thinke, State errors to redresse; But harder Judges, judge ambitious rage, (Scourge of it selfe, still clyming slippery place) Holds my young braine captiv’d in golden cage. O fooles, or over-wise, alas the case; Of all my thoughts have neither stop nor start, But onely _Stellas_ eyes, and _Stellas_ hart. Rich fooles there there be, whose base and filthie hart, Lyes hatching still the goods wherein they flow: And damning their owne selves to _Tantal’s_ smart, Welth breeding want, more rich, more wretched grow. Yet to those fooles, heaven doth such wit impart, As what their hands doe hold, their heads doe know. And knowing love, and loving lay apart, As scattered things, farre from all dangers show. But that rich foole, who by blind Fortunes lot, The richest gem of love and life enjoyes, And can with foule abuse such beauties blot: Let him deprived of sweet, but unfelt joyes Exilde for aye, from those high treasures which He knowes not grow, in onely follie rich. The wisest scholler of the wight most wise, By _Phœbus_ doome, with sugred sentence sayes: That vertue if it once meete with our eyes, Strange flames of love it in our soules would rayse. But for that man with paine this truth discries, While he each thing in sences ballance wayes, And so, nor will nor can behold those skyes, Which inward Summe to heroicke mindes displaies. Vertue of late with vertuous care to stir Love of himselfe, takes _Stellas_ shape, that hee To mortall eyes might sweetly shine in her. It is most true, for since I her did see, Vertues great beautie in her face I prove, And finde th’ effect, for I doe burne in love. Though duskie wits dare scorne Astrologie, And fooles can thinke those lampes of purest light, Whose number, waies, greatnes, eternitie, Promising wondrous wonders to invite, To have for no cause birth-right in the skyes. But for to spangle the blacke weedes of Night, Or for some Braule which in that Chamber hie, They should still daunce to please a gazers sight. For mee I doe Nature unydle know, And know great causes, great effects procure, And know those bodies high, raigne on the low. And if these rules did fayle, proofe makes me sure, Who oft foresee my after following case, By onely those two starres in _Stella’s_ face.