What is your
substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of
strange shadows on your tend?
Since every one
hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one,
can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and
the counterfeit,
Is poorly imitated
after you;
On Helen's cheek all
art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian
tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring,
and foison of the year;
The one doth shadow
of your beauty show,
The other as your
bounty doth appear;
And you in every
blessed shape we know.
In all external
grace you have some part,
But you like none,
none you, for constant heart.