Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 5

DRead Maiestie! that shin'st through Beauties Skies
Regard me, cold Glasse, burning with thy Beames;
Which lighting on the Christall of mine Eyes,
Do burne my Hart, through Them, with Heates extreames!
To whose amazing Light when I draw neere
I freeze, with Feare, and flame in Loues desire:
Then, lett thy Fauours glaunces thawe this Feare:
And, quench, with deerest Dropps of Grace, this fire.
Yet in these sacred Flames Ile sacrifize
The harte of my poore Harte, to grace thy pow'r;
So thou, with Loue, wilt grace that exercize,
And, giue me hart, when flames my Hart deuoure:
I gaue thee mine, ô then giue thine to me
That Mine, and Thine, bee One twixt Mee, and Thee!