Unto the boundless Ocean of thy beauty 
Runs this poor river, charg'd with streams of zeal: 
Returning thee the tribute of my duty, 
Which here my love, my youth, my plaints reveal. 
Here I unclasp the book of my charg'd soul, 
Where I have cast th'accounts of all my care: 
Here have I summ'd my sighs, here I enroll 
How they were spent for thee; look what they are. 
Look on the dear expences of my youth, 
And see how just I reckon with thine eyes: 
Examine well they beauty in my truth, 
And cross my cares ere greater sums arise. 
Read it, sweet maid, though it be done but slightly; 
Who can show all his love, doth love but lightly.