To the Right Virtuous and Equally Beautiful Sra Inconstanza Bellarizza

Fairest,
When, by much gazing on those glittering beams
Which (if unmask'd) from day's bright henchman streams,
The Rascians eyes do gain the curse of years,
The loadstone's swarfy hue their tapers clears.
When unicorns have gluts or surfeits ta'en
By browsing liquorice, they to regain
Their stomachs and a cure crash bitter grass.
I leave the application: 'tis a glass
Wherein the dimmest eye may plainly see
What's due to me from you, to you from me.
But--I'll only tell the world that for your sake,
My willing muse this task did undertake
At hours of recreation, when a thought
Of your choice worth this and this fancy brought.
Some to the bar will call the truth hereof,
Some wonder why, some pass it by, some scoff.
Because, in this full harvest of your sex,
I 'mongst such thousands glean your name t'annex
Unto, and usher in, these wanton verses,
Some will be apt to think my pen rehearses
Love passions 'twixt yourself and some choice he
(The world I know will not suspect 'tis me)
And that I age it lest quick eyes should see.
But in this thought I'm silent; thoughts are free.
Indeed your worth doth just proportion hold
With this high worth which of Bellama's told.
And well my knowledge can inform my pen
To raise a spite in women, love in men.
And if the Fates befriend me that my thread
Outmeasures yours (your worth asleep, not dead,
For such worth cannot die) I then will say
You equall'd her and was--(but, truth, away).
If these dull melancholy, grief, or sleep,
From any prone thereto at distance keep;
Let unto you their tribute thanks be paid
For my invention by your worth was ray'd,
My fancy rais'd, enliv'ned, and inspir'd,
That my quick muse my agile hand has tir'd,
Nay, more, methinks I might unchidden call
You subject-object of this poem all;
And all in this acknowledgement may trim
You pros'd this poem but 'twas vers'd by him
Who styles himself your servant,