When first I view'd that ey-enchanting face,
Which for the world chiefe treasure was esteem'd,
I iudging simply all things as they seem'd,
Thought humble lookes had promist pitie place;
Yet were they but ambushments, to deceiue
My ouer-rash heart that fear'd no secret fires:
Thy bashfulnesse emboldened my desires,
Which seem'd to offer what I was to craue.
Can crueltie then borrow beauties shape?
And pride so decke it selfe with modest lookes?
Too pleasant baites to hide such poison'd hookes,
Whose vnsuspected slight none can escape.
Who can escape this more then diuellish art,
When golden haires disguise a brazen heart?
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