Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet Grace must still look so.

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Nothing can seem foul to those that win

He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil.

Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, Before, behind thee, and on every hand, Enwheel thee round!