Find written in the margent of his eyes, This precious book of love, this unbound lover, 90 To beautify him only lacks a cover. The fish lives in the sea, and ’tis much pride For fair without the fair within to hide. That book in many’s eyes doth share the glory, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; 95 So shall you share all that he doth possess, By having him making yourself no less.
