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Thomas Carew - Ingrateful Beauty Threatened
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Know Celia, since thou art so proud, 
        `Twas I that gave thee thy renown;
    Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd
        Of common beauties, liv`d unknown,
    Had not my verse exhal`d thy name,
    And with it imp`d the wings of fame.

    That killing power is none of thine,
        I gave it to thy voice, and eyes;
    Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;
       Thou art my star, shin`st in my skies;
   Then dart not from thy borrow`d sphere
   Lightning on him that fix`d thee there.

   Tempt me with such affrights no more,
       Lest what I made, I uncreate;
   Let fools thy mystic forms adore,
       I`ll know thee in thy mortal state;
   Wise poets that wrapp`d Truth in tales,
   Knew her themselves, through all her veils.
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