Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.

Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

On Rumor's tongue continual slanders ride.

Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.

Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution