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.