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My God, my God, how much I love my goddess, Whose virtues rare, unto the heavens arise! My God, my God, how much I love her eyes One shining bright, the other full of hardness! My God, my God, how much I love her wisdom, Whose works may ravish heaven's richest maker! Of whose eyes' joys if I might be partaker Then to my soul a holy rest would come. My God, how much I love to hear her speak! Whose hands I kiss and ravished oft rekisseth, When she stands wotless whom so much she blesseth. Say then, what mind this honest love would break; Since her perfections pure, withouten blot, Makes her beloved of thee, she knoweth not?