Classic Poem

Admit , thou darling of mine eyes,
I have some idol lately framed,
That under such a false disguise
Our true loves might the less be famed:
Canst thou, that knowest my heart, suppose
I'll fall from thee, and worship those?

Remember, dear, how loth and slow
I was to cast a look or smile,
Or one love-line to misbestow,
Till thou hadst changed both face and style:
And art thou grown afraid to see
That mask put on thou mad'st for me?

I dare not call those childish fears,
Coming from love, much less from thee;
But wash away, with frequent tears,
This counterfeit idolatry:
And henceforth kneel at ne'er a shrine,
To blind the world, but only thine.