WITH A MIRROR
Carved by a swarthy knave
Close by the Adrian wave
Came I to being.
To me a soul he gave,
In gold he did me lave,
To suit your seeing.
Mine is a pleasant life,
Jove bless his flashing knife,
Who wrought my living.
For me nor care nor strife,
Joys in my days are rife,
Joys of your giving.