Those eyes, those sparkling sapphires of delight,
Which thousand thousand hearts did set on fire,
Which made that eye of heaven that brings the light,
Oft jealous, stay amaz'd them to admire;
That living snow, those crimson roses bright,
Those pearls, those rubies, which did breed desire,
Those locks of gold, that purple fair of Tyre,
Are wrapt, ay me! up in eternal night.
What hast thou more to vaunt of, wretched world,
Sith she, who cursed thee made blest, is gone?
Thine ever-burning lamps, rounds ever whirl'd,
Can unto thee not model such a one:
For if they would such beauty bring on earth,
They should be forc'd again to make her breath.