But when she shews her bosom wide displayed,

How soon her sweets exhale, her beauties fade!

No more she seems the flower so lately loved,

By virgins cherished and by youths approved.

So swiftly fleeting with the transient day

Passes the flower of mortal life away.

Not less subjective is:

Like a ray of light on water

A smile of soft desire played in her liquid eyes.

(Sonnet 18.)