Classic Poem

TO HIS MISTRESS .

A CARVER , having loved too long in vain,
Hew'd out the portraiture of Venus' son
In marble rock, upon the which did rain
Small drizzling drops, that from a fount did run;
Imagining the drops would either wear
His fury out, or quench his living flame:
But when he saw it bootless did appear,
He swore the water did augment the same.
So I, that seek in verse to carve thee out,
Hoping thy beauty will my flame allay,
Viewing my lines impolish'd all throughout,
Find my will rather to my love obey:
That with the carver I my work do blame,
Finding it still th' augmenter of my flame.