SONNET. XIX.

Ah no; nor I my selfe: though my pure loue
     (Sweete Ganymede to thee hath still beene pure,
     And euen till my last gaspe shall aie endure,
Could euer thy obdurate beuty moue:
Then cease oh Goddesse sonne (for sure thou art,
     A Goddesse sonne that canst resist desire)
     Cease thy hard heart, and entertaine loues fire,
Within thy sacred breast: by Natures art.
And as I loue thee more then any Creature,
     (Loue thee, because thy beautie is diuine;
     Loue thee, because my selfe, my soule is thine;
Wholie deuoted to thy louelie feature)
     Euen so of all the vowels, I and V,
     Are dearest vnto mee, as doth ensue.