- How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
- Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
- Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
- O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
- That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
- Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
- Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
- Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
- O! what a mansion have those vices got
- Which for their habitation chose out thee,
- Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot
- And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
- Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
- The hardest knife ill-us’d doth lose his edge.