I view thine eyne as scorching flames of hell,

Yet hell itself is sweet in fiery well;          

I pray the worldly pleasures to provide

Me with thy presence, and thou be my bride.

I want the flames of hell to hold my soul

Until our deaths in age consumes us whole;

And then ourselves are separated,

But in hell, our souls remainèd mated.

Though the eyes of heaven shame our lackèd wit,

And God’s armies may as well permit

Out damnèd selves to burn in fire,

Therein I ask to only thee acquire;

This permitted not: our plea to here repent,

For all that’s done, ourselves cannot prevent;

Let’s pray to none, except his Lord and Grace,

And only he himself can us unbrace.