TELL me, ye subtle judges in love's treasury, Inform me which hath most enrich'd mine eye, This diamond's greatness, or its clarity? Ye cloudy spark-lights, whose vast multitude Of fires are harder to be found than view'd, Wait on this star in her first magnitude. Calmly or roughly, ah! she shines too much! That now I lie (her influence is such) Crush'd with too strong a hand, or soft a touch. Lovers, beware! a certain, double harm Waits your proud hopes, her looks' all-killing charm, Guarded by her as true victorious arm. Thus with her eyes brave Tamyris spake dread, Which when the king's dull breast not entered, Finding she could not look, she strook him dead. |