- Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
- And all my soul, and all my every part;
- And for this sin there is no remedy,
- It is so grounded inward in my heart.
- Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
- No shape so true, no truth of such account;
- And for myself mine own worth do define,
- As I all other in all worths surmount.
- But when my glass shows me myself indeed
- Beated and chopp’d with tanned antiquity,
- Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
- Self so self-loving were iniquity.
- ’Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
- Painting my age with beauty of thy days.