Daphne was not so chaste as she was changing
Soon begun Love with hate estranging:
He that to day triumphs with favors graced
Fals before night with scornes defaced:
Yet is thy beautie fainde, and ev’rie one desires
Still the false light of thy traiterous fires

Beautie can want no grace by true love viewed
Fancie by lookes is still renued:
Like to a fruitfull tree it ever groweth
Or the fresh-spring that endlesse floweth
But if that beautie were of one consent with love
Love should live free, and true pleasure prove