O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich j**el in an Ethiop's ear
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night