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Thomas Carew - Good Counsel to a Young Maid
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GAZE not on thy beauty`s pride, 
Tender maid, in the false tide 
That from lovers` eyes doth slide. 
Let thy faithful crystal show 
How thy colours come and go :              
Beauty takes a foil from woe. 

Love, that in those smooth streams lies 
Under pity`s fair disguise, 
Will thy melting heart surprise. 

Nets of passion`s finest thread,             
Snaring poems, will be spread, 
All to catch thy maidenhead. 

Then beware ! for those that cure 
Love`s disease, themselves endure 
For reward a calenture.                        

Rather let the lover pine, 
Than his pale cheek should assign 
A perpetual blush to thine.
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