Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO T.H., A LADY RESEMBLING MY MISTRESS, by THOMAS CAREW

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TO T.H., A LADY RESEMBLING MY MISTRESS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Fair copy of my celia's face
Last Line: Only because you are her coin.
Subject(s): Identity

FAIR copy of my Celia's face,
Twin of my soul, thy perfect grace
Claims in my love an equal place.

Disdain not a divided heart,
Though all be hers, you shall have part:
Love is not ti'd to rules of art.

For as my soul first to her flew,
Yet stay'd with me, so now 'tis true
It dwells with her, though fled to you.

Then entertain this wand'ring guest,
And if not love, allow it rest:
It left not, but mistook, the nest.

Nor think my love, or your fair eyes,
Cheaper, 'cause from the sympathies
You hold with her these flames arise.

To lead or brass, or some such bad
Metal, a prince's stamp may add
That value which it never had;

But to the pure refined ore
The stamp of kings imparts no more
Worth than the metal held before.

Only the image gives the rate
To subjects; in a foreign state
'Tis priz'd as much for its own weight.

So though all other hearts resign
To your pure worth, yet you have mine
Only because you are her coin.

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