Sonnet 62

IF Heaven, the Stars, and Nature did her grace
With all Perfections found the Moone above,
And what excelleth in this lower Place,
Found place in her to breed a World of Love:
If Angels Gleames shine on her fairest Face,
Which makes Heavens Joy, on Earth, the gazer prove,
And her bright Eyes (the Orbes which Beauty move)
As Phoebus dazell in his glorious Race.
What Pencill paint what Colour to the sight
So sweet a Shape can show? the blushing Morne,
The red must lend, the Milkie-way the white,
And Night the Stars which her rich Crown adorne;
To draw her right then, and make all agree,
The Heaven the Table, Zeuxis Jove must be.