Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 17

THy nere too much priz'd Person (deerest Deer)
The, past most pretious, sacred Temple is,
Wherein pure Chastity, and Beauty cleere,
Espoused are to Loue, and Louers blisse:
Thy mildnesse makes Pride poore, and Meeknesse ritch:
Thy looks raise Hope, yet staidly keep it downe
Within the compasse of a modest pitch:
Wherein thy highest grace, with grace, is showne.
Thou art a Pearle which nothing can relent
But Viniger made of Deuotions Teares:
If it be counterfet, or euill bent,
For it thou hast, nor Hart, nor Eyes, nor Eares:
But, Hart, and Eyes, and Eares thou hast for myne,
Whose Hart, and Eyes and Eares, are ruld by Thine.