by William Alexander
No wonder, thou endang'rest liues with lookes,
And dost bewitch the bosome by the eare:
What hostes of hearts, that no such sleight did feare,
Are now entangled by thy beauties hookes?
But if so many to the world approue,
Those princely vertues that enrich my mind,
And hold thee for the honour of thy kind;
Yea though disdain'd, yet desperatly loue:
O what a world of haplesse louers liue,
That like a treasure entertaine their thought,
And seeme in show as if effecting nought,
And in their brest t'entombe their fancies striue:
Yet let not this with pride thy heart possesse;
The Sun being mounted high doth seeme the lesse.
Last updated January 14, 2019