- He that loves a rosy cheek,
- Or a coral lip admires,
- Or, from star-like eyes, doth seek
- Fuel to maintain his fires;
- As old Time makes these decay,
- So his flames must waste away.
THOMAS CAREW, Disdain Returned
- Wise poets that wrapt Truth in tales,
- Knew her themselves through all her veils.
THOMAS CAREW, Ingrateful Beauty Threatened
- Ask me no more if east or west
- The Pheonix builds her spicy nest;
- For unto you at last she flies,
- And in your fragrant bosom dies.
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