When fair Narcissus , in the liquid Glass,
Saw the Reflection of his lovely Face,
Unconscious how by Nature form'd to please,
He thought another's Charms what only flow'd from his.

So, in your beautous Mind, what you possess,
Too negligent to know, too modest to confess,
When, in my Verse, your Likeness you admire,
You ask whose Picture 'tis that sets your Soul on Fire.