The Author to his wife, of a womans eloquence

MY Mall, I mark that whē you mean to proue me
To buy a Veluet gowne, or some rich border,
Thou calst me good sweet heart, thou swearst to loue me,
Thy locks, thy lips, thy looks, speak all in order,
Thou think'st, and right thou think'st, that these doe moue me
That all these seuerally thy sute do further:
But shall I tell thee what most thy suit aduances?
Thy faire smoothe words? no, no, thy faire smoothe banches.