(no subject)
A woman's face, with nature's own hand painted,
hast thu, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
with shifting chang, as is false woman's
fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in
rollin'
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 woman wert thou first created;
till nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting
And by addition me of thee defeated, but since she prick'd thee out women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use thir treasure.
hast thu, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
with shifting chang, as is false woman's
fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in
rollin'
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 woman wert thou first created;
till nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting
And by addition me of thee defeated, but since she prick'd thee out women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use thir treasure.