Raysing my hopes on hills of high desire,
Thinking to skale the heauen of her hart:
My slender meanes presum’d too high a part;
Her thunder of disdaine forst me retire;
And threw mee downe to paine in all this fire,
Where loe I languish in so heauie smart,
Because th’attempt was farre aboue my arte:
Her pride brook’d not poore soules shold come so nye her.
Yet I protest my high aspyring will,
Was not to dispossesse her of her right:
Her soueraignty should haue remayned still,
I onely sought the blisse to haue her sight.
Her sight contented thus to see me spill,
Fram’d my desires fit for her eyes to kill.