LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene, <br />Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew: <br />and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane, <br />most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew. <br />Within my hart, though hardly it can shew, <br />thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye: <br />the fayre Idea of your celestiall hew, <br />and euery part remaines immortally: <br />And were it not that through your cruelty, <br />with sorrow dimmed and deformd it were: <br />the goodly ymage of your visnomy, <br />clearer then christall would therein appere. <br />But if your selfe in me ye playne will see, <br />remoue the cause by which your fayre beames darkned be.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xlv-2/
