In Praise of his Mistress

You that will a wonder know,
Go with me;
Two suns in a heaven of snow
Both burning be,
All they fire that do but eye them,
Yet the snow's unmelted by them.

Leaves of crimson tulips met
Guide the way
Where two pearly rows be set,
As white as day;
When they part themselves asunder
She breathes oracles of wonder.

All this but the casket is
Which contains
Such a jewel, as to miss
Breeds endless pains,
That's her mind, and they that know it
May admire, but cannot show it.