Sonnet 13

IN that proud port which her so goodly graceth,

Whiles her faire face she reares vp to the skie:

And to the ground her eie-lids low embaseth,

Most goodly temperature ye may descry,

Myld humblesse mixt with awfull maiesty,

For looking on the earth, whence she was borne:

Her minde remembreth her mortalitie:

What so is fayrest shall to earth returne.

But that same lofty countenance seemes to scorne

Base thing, and thinke how she to heauen may clime:

Treading downe earth as lothsome and forlorne,

That hinders heauenly thoughts with drossy slime.

Yet lowly still vouchsafe to looke on me,

Such lowlinesse shall make you lofty be.