Sonnet 61

SInce it hath pleas'd that First and supreme Faire
To take that Beauty to himselfe againe,
Which in this world of Sense not to remaine,
But to amaze was sent, and home repaire;
The Love which to that Beauty I did beare,
Made Pure of mortall spots which did it staine,
And endlesse, which even Death cannot impaire,
I place on him who will it not disdaine.
No shining Eyes, no Locks of curling gold,
No blushing Roses on a virgin Face,
No outward show, no, nor no inward Grace,
Shall power have my thoughts henceforth to hold:
Love here on Earth huge stormes of care doth tosse,
But plac'd above exempted is from losse