Which seeing now so inly faire to be, 225 As outward it appeareth to the eye, And with his spirits proportion to agree, He thereon fixeth all his fantasie, And fully setteth his felicitie; Counting it fairer then it is indeede, 230 And yet indeede her fairnesse doth exeede. For lovers eyes more sharply sighted bee Then other mens, and in deare loves delight See more then any other eyes can see, Through mutuall receipt of beamës bright, 235 Which carrie privie message to the spright, And to their eyes that inmost faire display, As plaine as light discovers dawning day. Therein they see, through amorous eye-glaunces, Armies of Loves still flying too and fro, 240 Which dart at them their litle fierie launces; Whom having wounded, back againe they go, Carrying compassion to their lovely foe; Who, seeing her faire eyes so sharp effect, Cures all their sorrowes with one sweete aspect. 245 In which how many wonders doe they reede To their conceipt, that others never see! Now of her smiles, with which their soules they feede, Like gods with nectar in their bankets free; Now of her lookes, which like to cordials bee; 250 But when her words embássade* forth she sends, Lord, how sweete musicke that unto them lends! [* _Embássade_, embassy.] Sometimes upon her forhead they behold A thousand graces masking in delight; Sometimes within her eye-lids they unfold 255 Ten thousand sweet belgards*, which to their sight Doe seeme like twinckling starres in frostie night; But on her lips, like rosy buds in May, So many millions of chaste pleasures play. [* _Belgards_, fair looks.] All those, O Cytherea! and thousands more, 260 Thy handmaides be, which do on thee attend, To decke thy beautie with their dainties store, That may it more to mortall eyes commend, And make it more admyr’d of foe and frend; That in men’s harts thou mayst thy throne enstall, 265 And spred thy lovely kingdome over all. Then Iö, tryumph! O great Beauties Queene, Advance the banner of thy conquest hie, That all this world, the which thy vassels beene, May draw to thee, and with dew fëaltie 270 Adore the powre of thy great maiestie, Singing this hymne in honour of thy name, Compyld by me, which thy poor liegeman am! In lieu whereof graunt, O great soveraine! That she whose conquering beauty doth captíve 275 My trembling hart in her eternall chaine, One drop of grace at length will to me give, That I her bounden thrall by her may live, And this same life, which first fro me she reaved, May owe to her, of whom I it receaved. 280