text: Love peruse me, seeke, and finde
  How each corner of my minde
              Is a twine
              Woven to shine.
  Not a Webb ill made, foule framd,
  Bastard not by Father namd,
              Such in me
              Cannot bee.
  Deare behold me, you shall see
  Faith the Hive, and love the Bee,
              Which doe bring.
              Gaine and sting.
  Pray desect me, sinewes, vaines,
  Hold, and loves life in those gaines;
              Lying bare
              To despaire,
  When you thus anotamise
  All my body, my heart prise;
              Being true
              Just to you.
  Close the Truncke, embalme the Chest,
  Where your power still shall rest,
              Joy entombe,
              Loves just doome.