Ten Sonets to Philomel: Vpon her looking secretly out at a window as he passed by

Once did my Philomel reflect on me,
Her Cristall pointed eyes as I past by;
Thinking not to be seene, yet would me see:
But soone my hungry eies their food did spy.
Alas, my deere, couldst them suppose, that face
Which needs not enuy Phoebus chiefest pride,
Could secret be, although in secret place,
And that transparent glasse such beames could hide?
But if I had been blinde, yet Loues hot flame,
Kindled in my poore heart by thy bright eye,
Did plainly shew when it so neere thee came,
By more the vsuall heate then cause was nie,
So though thou hidden wert, my heart and eye
Did turne to thee by mutuall Sympathy.

When time nor place would let me often view
Natures chiefe Mirror, and my sole delight;
Her liuely picture in my heart I drew,
That I might it behold both day and night;
But she, like Philips Sonne, scorning that I
Should portraiture, which wanted Apelles Art,
Commanded Loue (who nought dare her deny)
To burne the picture which was in my heart.
The more loue burn'd, the more her Picture shin'd:
The more it shin'd, the more my heart did burne:
So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd,
To my hearts ruine and decay did turne.
Loue could not burne the Spirit, it was divine,
And therefore fir'd my heart, the Saints poor shrine.