Astrophel and Stella: 100

O teares, no tears, but raine from beauties skies,Making those Lillies and those Roses grow,Which ay most faire, now more then most faire showWhile gracefull pitty beautie beautifies.O honied sighs, which from that breast doe rise,Whose pants do make vnspilling creame to flow,Wing'd with whose breth, so pleasing Zephires blow,As can refresh the hell where my soule fries.O plaints conseru'd in such a sugred phraise,That eloquence it selfe enuies your praise,While sobd out words a perfect Musike giue.Such teares, sighs, plaints, no sorrow is, but joy:Or if such heauenly signes must proue annoy,All mirth fare-wel, let me in sorrow liue.