Astrophel and Stella: 31

With how sad steps, O Moone, thou climb'st the skies,How silently, and with how wanne a face,What may it be, that euen in heau'nly placeThat busie archer his sharpe arrowes tries?Sure if that long with Loue acquainted eyesCan judge of Loue, thou feel'st a Louers case;I reade it in thy lookes, thy languisht graceTo me that feele the like, that state descries.Then eu'n of felowship, O Moone, tell meIs constant Loue deem'd there but want of wit?Are Beauties there as proud as here they be?Do they aboue loue to be lou'd, and yetThose Louers scorne whom that Loue doth possesse?Do they call Vertue there vngratefulnesse?