A woman's face with nature's own hand painted
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion
A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion An eye more bright than theirs less false in rolling
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth
A man in hue all hues in his controlling
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth And for a woman wert thou first created
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing But since she ***'d thee out for women's pleasure
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure
