O why doth Delia credit so her glass, <br />Gazing her beauty deign'd her by the skies, <br />And doth not rather look on him (alas) <br />Whose state best shows the force of murd'ring eyes? <br />The broken tops of lofty trees declare <br />The fury of a mercy-wanting storm; <br />And of what force your wounding graces are, <br />Upon my self you best may find the form. <br />Then leave your glass, and gaze your self on me, <br />That Mirror shows what power is in your face; <br />To view your form too much may danger be: <br />Narcissus chang'd t'a flower in such a case. <br />And you are chang'd, but not t'a Hyacint; <br />I fear your eye hath turn'd your heart to flint.<br /><br />Samuel Daniel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxvii-o-why-doth-delia/
