Classic Poem

From thy pale look, while angry Love doth seem
With more imperiousness to give his Law,
Then where he blushingly doth beg esteem,
We may observe py'd beauty in such aw;
That the brav'st Colour under her command
Affrighted, oft before you doth retire,
While, like a Statue of your self, you stand
In such symmetrique form, as doth require
No lustre but his own: As then in vain
One should flesh-colouring to Statues add,
So were it to your native White a Stain,
If it in other ornaments were clad,
Then what your rich proportions do give,
Which in a boundless fair being unconfin'd
Exalted in your soul, so seem to live,
That they become an emblem of your mind,
That so, who to your Orient White should joyn
Those fading qualities most eyes adore,
Were but like one, who gilding Silver Coin,
Gave but occasion to suspect it more.