|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
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
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.
Be not for ever frozen, coy !
One beam of love will soon destroy
And melt that ice to floods of joy.