1 When trouble lauding doth beg a helpful healing,
2 A redress is found in her eyes divine.
3 Words of laud, glory, from them revealing
4 Do prose and poem with perfection entwine.
5 Oh what stanzas still unwrote doth abide her eyes:
6 Which to eternize in ink that depthless hue.
7 I but praise that poet, who can poetry supply,
8 That details the beauty that god with her imbue.
9 Let eyes like those of boundless pearls, peculate
10 My heart whose care decease when in that state.