Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 38

IF two Sunnes should, at once, adorne the Skies
All, in Combustion, would bee soone beneath:
Then, tis no wonder though thy Sunne-bright Eyes
(O most faire-Faire!) make all to burne that breath!
For, in thy Faces midd-heau'n so they shine
As comforts Nature in her workes of grace:
Yet makes It flame, with furie (oft) Diuine,
While it as Heanu'ly doth adorne thy Face:
Then, sith I am great Mother Natures Sonne,
Let thine Eyes comfort mee, with grace, to moue,
(As if I were all flaming, in the Sunne)
Vnto the endlesse Orbe of thy bright loue:
Wherein, if quite thou melt me, I shalbe
That which I wishe: that is, A parle of Thee.