Astrophel and Stella: 43

Faire eyes, sweet lips, deare heart, that foolish ICould hope by Cupids helpe on you to pray;Since to himselfe he doth your gifts apply,As his maine force, choise sport, and easefull stay.For when he will see who dare him gaine-say,Then with those eyes he lookes, lo by and byEach soule doth at Loues feet his weapon lay,Glad if for her he giue them leaue to die.When he would play, then in her lips he is,Where blushing red, that Loues-selfe them do loue,With either lip he doth the other kisse:But when he will for quiets sake remooueFrom all the world, her heart is then his roome,Where well he knowes, no man to him can come.