|
|
| Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye | 1 |
|
|
| 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, | 5 |
|
|
| 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, | 10 |
|
|
| 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. |
|
|
