Elegy 9

Lady, from Cornwall unto you I writ,
But my hard Fates kept you from seeing it.
How glad had I been if that you had known
That there I was yours much more then mine own!
Each wind that blew I lov'd, because I thought
The sound thereof might to your ears be brought;
Each Showre that came I wish'd of gold, and that
Jove-like I fell into my Danae's lap:
Each star I saw put me in minde of thee;
But th'art too fair a little star to be.
I went to Sea, and when I there was come,
I thought of him that to his Hero swom,
And wish't so you did love as she did him,
That like Leander I to you might swim.
But now I am return'd again, be you
As kind to me as you have found me true.