Sonnet Xx Poem by E C Esquire

That thou art faire exceeding all compare,
Witnes thy eyes that gaze vpon thy beautie,
Witnes the hearts thou daily dost insnare,
And draw to honour thee with louers dutie:
That thou art wise witnes the worlds report,
Witnes the thoughts that do so much admire thee,
Witnes the heauen-borne Muses that resort,
And for their mistris meekly do desire thee:
That thou art both exceeding faire and wise,
Witnes the anguish of my sillie hart:
Thy heauenly shape hath caught me by my eyes,
Thy secret wisedome that giues art to art,
So circumuents me and procures my paine,
That I must dye, vnles thou true remaine.