 | The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden
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Son. [xx]
[All other Beauties how so e're they shine]
All other Beauties how so e're they shine
In Haires more bright than is the golden Ore,
Or Cheekes more faire than fairest Eglantine,
Or Hands like Hers who comes the Sunne before:
Match'd with that Heauenly Hue, and Shape diuine,
With those deare Starres which my weake Thoughts adore,
Looke but like Shaddowes, or if they bee more,
It is in that that they are like to thine.
Who sees those Eyes, their Force and doth not proue,
Who gazeth on the Dimple of that Chinne,
And findes not Venus Sonne entrench'd therein,
Or hath not Sense, or knowes not what is Loue.
To see thee had Narcissus had the Grace,
Hee sure had died with wondring on thy Face.
| The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden
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