The poet and the painter safely dare
To form an image of the proudest fair:
Your brighter charms, by lavish nature wrought,
Transcend the painter’s skill, the poet’s thought.
Occasioned by seeing some verses on Cælia, written on a pane of Glass.
Well hast thou drawn, fond youth, in properest place,
The short-lived beauties of false Cælia’s face.
When words’ obscurities thy sense o’er-shade,
The place gives light to what thou wouldst have said.
Bright as this lucid glass her eyes now seem,