ADORNED

Great Venus' statue, as men do conceive,

Wore it a jewel would all spoiled be;

Yet beauty's not alone simplicity.

Thus men with thoughts the eyes of sense deceive.

Oh, on a lake did they never perceive

A perfect boat, or a sail in the sea

At night that passes, far, mysteriously,

And in the heart a pining strange doth leave?

Ah, me! Upon a young and virgin breast

When it a jewel richly doth adorn,

Each to the other lends beauty and splendour,

As o'er the tremulous sea the stars at rest,

As flow'r and dew - but more; my heart is torn

That neither words nor thoughts that spell can render.