You little stars that live in skies
And glory in Apollo's glory
In whose aspects conjoined lies
The heaven's will and nature's story
Joy to be likened to those eyes
Which eyes make all eyes glad or sorry
For when you force thoughts from above
These overrule your force by love
And thou, O Love, which in these eyes
Hast married Reason with Affection
And made them saints of Beauty's skies
Where joys are shadows of perfection
Lend me thy wings that I may rise
Up, not by worth, but thy election
For I have vowed in strangest fashion
To love and never seek
Compassion (compassion)
Compassion (compassion)
Compassion (compassion)
Compassion