| THAT flatt'ring glass, whose smooth face wears Your shadow, which a sun appears,
 Was once a river of my tears.
 About your cold heart they did make
A circle, where the briny lake                           
5
 Congeal'd into a crystal cake.
 Gaze no more on that killing eye,
For fear the native cruelty
 Doom you, as it doth all, to die :
 For fear lest the fair object move                    
10
Your froward heart to fall in love :
 Then you yourself my rival prove.
 Look rather on my pale cheeks pined,
There view your beauties, there you'll find
 A fair face, but a cruel mind.                           
15
 Be not for ever frozen, coy !
One beam of love will soon destroy
 And melt that ice to floods of joy.
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