thy gracious self, Which is as thin of substance as the sea, My love as deep; the more is my lady’s face, But chiefly to take her from this palace of dim night Depart again. Here, here will I endart mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire; And these who, often drown’d, could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars. One fairer than my love?