Sonnet LXXXVI          

Love is the Peace, whereto all thoughts doe strive, Done and begun with all our powers in one: The first and last in us that is alive, End of the good, and therewith pleas'd alone. Perfections spirit, Goddesse of the Minde, Passed through hope, desire, griefe and feare, A simple Goodnesse in the flesh refin'd, Which of the joyes to come doth witnesse beare. Constant, because it sees no cause to varie, A Quintessence of Passions overthrowne, Rais'd above all that change of objects carry, A Nature by no other nature knowne: For Glorie's of eternitie a frame, That by all bodies else obscures her name.