Astrophel and Stella — 50
Stella, the fulnes of my thoughts of thee Cannot be stayed within my panting brest: But they do swell and struggle forth of me, Till that in words thy figure be exprest; And yet as soone as they so formed be, According to my Lord Loves owne behest, With sad eyes I their weake proportion see To portract what within this world is best. So that I cannot chuse but write my minde, And cannot chuse but put out what I write, While those poore babes their death in birth doe find; And now my penne these lynes had dashed quite, But that they stop his furie from the same: Because their fore-front beares sweet Stellas name.