html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Fear not, My Dear, a Flame can never die,
That is once kindled by so bright an Eye:
Look on thy self, and measure thence my Love,
Think what a Passion such a Form must move;
For though thy Beauty first allur'd my Sight,
Yet now I look on it but as the Light
That led me to the Treasury of thy Mind,
Whose inward Virtue in that Feature shin'd.
That knot (be confident) will ever last,
Which Fancy ty'd, and Reason has made fast;
So fast, that time (although it may disarm
Thy Lovely Face) my Faith can never harm;
And Age, deluded when it comes, will find
My Love remov'd, and to thy Soul assign'd.
The Passion I have now, shall ne'er grow less:
No, though thy own Fair Self should it oppress.
I could e'en hazard my Eternity,
Love but again, and 'twill a Heaven be.