My words, in hope to blaze my stedfast minde,
This marble chose, as of like temper knowne:
But loe, my words defaste, my fancies blinde,
Blots to the stone, shame to my selfe I finde:
And witnesse am, how ill agree in one,
A womans hand with constant marble stone.
My words full weake, the marble full of might;
My words in store, the marble all alone;
My words blacke inke, the marble kindly white;
My words unseene, the marble still in sight,
May witnesse beare, how ill agree in one,
A womans hand, with constant marble stone.