Thou think'st I flatter, when thy praise I tell,
But thou dost all hyperboles excel;
For I am sure thou art no mortal creature,
But a divine one, thron'd in human feature.
Thy piety is such, that heaven by merit,5
If ever any did, thou shouldst inherit:
Thy modesty is such, that, hadst thou been
Tempted as Eve, thou wouldst have shunn'd her sin:
So lovely fair thou art, that sure Dame Nature
Meant thee the pattern of the female creature:10
Besides all this, thy flowing wit is such,
That were it not in thee, 't had been too much
For woman-kind: should envy look thee o'er,
It would confess thus much, if not much more.
I love thee well, yet wish some bad in thee;15
For sure I am thou art too good for me.