Mary Wroth
When I beheld the image of my dear
With greedy looks mine eyes would that way bend,
Fear and desire did inwardly contend:
Fear to be marked, desire to draw still near.
And in my soul a spirit would appear,
Which boldness warranted, and did pretend
To be my genius, yet I durst not lend
My eyes in trust where others seemed so clear.
Then did I search from whence this danger 'rose,
If such unworthiness in me did rest
As my starved eyes must not with sight be blest;
When jealousy her poison did disclose;
Yet in my heart unseen of jealous eye
The truer image shall in triumph lie.