To His Mistress
IF he that erst the form so lively drew
Of Venus’ face, triumph’d in painter’s art ;
Thy Father then what glory did ensue,
By whose pencil a Goddess made thou art.
Touched with flame that figure made some rue,
And with her love surprised many a heart.
There lack’d yet that should cure their hot desire:
Thou canst inflame and quench the kindled dire.
