Grieve not (fair maid) ‘cause you are black; so’s she
That’s spouse to him who died upon the tree:
And so is everything. For to your thought,
If you but wink, the worlds as dark as nought.
Or doe but look abroad and you shall meet
In every hallowed Church, in every street,
The fairest still in this; who think they lack
Of their perfections if not all in black:
Their gowns, their veils are so, nay more their necks
Their very beauties are foild off with specks
Of the dark colour. Whilst thus to her mate
Each seems more faire. Now they but personate
What you are really. Your fairest haire
Shadows the Picture of your face more faire:
Your two black sphears are like two Globes beset
With Ebony, or ring’d about with Jet.
O how I now desire ene to depart
From all the rest, and study the Black art:
Bt since thats not alowed me, I will see
How I may t[r]uely, fairest, study thee.