Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 21

O That I could (as willingly I would
By breathing on thy lips my Soule infuse
Into thy beanteous Body; then, it should
Make Thee (as still it doth) on It still muse?
For muse I do, and nonght but muse alone,
Because it makes my Muse to make my Loue
Vnto such only Beauty only knowne
(By waight and measure) so, thy Soule to mooue:
Moue Soule (sweet Soule!) Soule of my sweetest Sweet!)
With equall motion moue, as moues my Soule:
Which moues to Thine, then let Thine with It meet
It to embrace, in loue, not It controule:
But yet if so thou moue, thou shalt (Deere Sweete)
Controule it still when it moues ought vnmeet.