Sonnet Cciv:

CCIV If Grecian Helen pleaded with the tongue The Chian lent her--sweetest tongue of earth! If Agamemnon's child forgot her birth, And at my knee in panting beauty clung; If fiery Cleopatra sued and hung Fast to my restless hand in prurient mirth; If chaste Lucretia wrecked her ancient worth; And Rosamond's hair about my face were flung; If all the fairest creatures that have worn The poets' wreaths, the crowns of chivalry, Were singly or in concourse offered me; I would reject, in haste and simple scorn The night-born stars, whose rise foreran thy morn, Yea, from their homage turn to worship thee.