University of Virginia Library

Upon the Black Spots worn by my Lady D. E.

Madam,

I Know your heart cannot so guilty be,
That you should wear those spots for vanity;
Or as your Beauties Trophies, put on one
For every murther which your eyes have done:
No, they're your Mourning-weeds for Hearts forlorn,
Which though you must not love, you could not scorn;
To whom since cruel Honor doth deny
Those joyes could onely cure their misery;
Yet you this noble way to grace them found,
Whilst thus your grief their martyrdom hath crown'd.
Of which take heed you prove not prodigal,
For if to every common Funeral,

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By your eyes martyr'd, such grace were allow'd,
Your Face would wear not Patches but a Cloud.
J. S.