Astrophel and Stella: 42

O eyes, which do the Spheares of beautie mooue,Whose beames be joyes, whose joyes all vertues be,Who while they make Loue conquer, conquer Loue,The schooles where Venus hath learn'd Chastitie.O eyes, where humble lookes most glorious proue,Only lou'd Tyrants, just in cruelty,Do not, O do not from poore me remoue,Keepe still my Zenith, euer shine on me.For though I neuer see them, but straight-wayesMy life forgets to nourish languisht sprites:Yet still on me, O eyes, dart downe your rayes.And if from Majestie of sacred lights,Oppressing mortall sense, my death proceed,Wracks Triumphs be, which Loue (high set) doth breed.