Whilst Thus Mine Eyes Doe Surfet With Delight, My Wofull Hart, Imprisond In My Breast, Wishing To Be Trans-Formd Into My Sight, To Looke On Her By Whom Mine Eyes Are Blest; But Whilst Mine Eyes Thus Greedily Doe Gaze, Behold! Their Obiects Ouer-Soone Depart, And Treading In This Neuer-Ending Maze, Wish Now To Be Trans-Formd Into My Hart: My Hart, Surcharg'D With Thoughts, Sighes In Abundance Raise, My Eyes, Made Dim With Lookes, Poure Down A Flood Of Tears; And Whilst My Hart And Eye Enuy Each Others Praise, My Dying Lookes And Thoughts Are Peiz'D In Equall Feares: And Thus, Whilst Sighes And Teares Together Doe Contende, Each One Of These Doth Ayde Vnto The Other Lende.