Upon a Paire of Garters

Go loveinge woode-bynde, clip with louely grace,
those two sweet plants which beare ye flowers of loue
Go silken vines, those tender elmes embrace,
Which flourish still, although their roots doe moue.
As soone as you possess your blessed places,
You are advancèd and ennobled more
Then dyodemes, which were white silken laces
That ancient kings about there forehead wore:
Sweete bands, take heed lest you vngently bynd,
Or with your stricktnes make too deepe a print:
Was neuer tree had such a tinder rynd,
Although her inward hart be hard as flynt;
And let your knots be fast, and loose at will,
she must be free, though I stand bounden still.