Thy bord shall win

M Ost sacred fire, that burnest mightilyIn liuing brests, ykindled first aboue,Emongst th'eternall spheres and lamping sky,And thence pourd into men, which men call Loue;Not that same, which doth base affections moueIn brutish minds, and filthy lust inflame,But that sweet fit, that doth true beautie loue,And choseth vertue for his dearest Dame,Whence spring all noble deeds and neuer dying fame:

thta is why i say that thy bord shall win because is da best of the world
the rasbery is cool but is not