Witchcraft by a picture.

I fixe mine eye on thine, and there

Pitty my picture burning in thine eye,

My picture drown'd in a transparent teare,

When I looke lower I espie;

Hadst thou the wicked skill

By pictures made and mard, to kill,

How many wayes mightst thou performe thy will?

But now I have drunke thy sweet salt teares,

And though thou poure more I'll depart;

My picture vanish'd, vanish feares,

That I can be endamag'd by that art;

Though thou retaine of mee

One picture more, yet that will bee,

Being in thine owne heart, from all malice free.