The Sun beholding so as he does pass,
His floating Face in Water 's liquid Glass ,
The glitt'ring Circle , with delight surveys;
And Heav'ns , on their own bright Reflexion gaze:
Seeming to view with an admiring Beam ,
Another Sun , and Heav'ns , in the Stream .
As she with only looking on, pourtrayes
The glorious Image, darted from her Rayes ;
Surpriz'd , to see what on a sudden there
Has started up, so yong, so fresh, so fair.

Her Shadow , with such curious Art does gild
The shining Mirror , with a new Light fill'd,
That well may she with just Amazement eye,
What only can pretend with her to vye.
Her other Self , like Her, surpriz'd does show,
Her Features mocks, and mocks her Wonder too.
The Am'rous Glance in striving to excell,
Does seem to court her ever here to dwell .
Proud of the transient Shape , it does present,
Could gladly wish it fixt , and permanent .
Fixt , as those Statues we in Gardens place,
Viewing in Fountains still their carved Face .

Could it alas, her Pourtrait but retain!
It would endure no other Figures stain .
What her Stamp seals, as sacred to her Smile ,
No soiling Look , prophanely would defile .
Or should there any Beauties be, that dare,
Their Spots , or Graces , by this Glass compare;
Her Eyes , before theirs , thus it would prefer,
In flatt'ring them , by truly shewing Her .

Nor would the sweet Impression stampt in Air ,
So lovely have appear'd, or half so fair;
Did not the same Resemblance polish give,
And Lustre add, to what should it receive.
She dressing by her Glass , her Glass has drest ,
And richly with her airy Shape possest.
But when too soon the fair unkind retires,
The short-liv'd Beauty that shin'd here, expires.
And as the beamy Glance does disappear,
And vanishes , we know not how , not where ,
Leaving no Print behind, no feeble Ray ,
That might discover where it once did stay.
The brittle Sphere all darkened thus, will mourn
The frail Glory lost, it did return.
And of her radiant Likeness then complain,
That naked as it was, 'tis left again.