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