A reflection of loveliness, you spend tiny
seconds in the mirror,
Sparing not a hand of beauty's lend; to lend
cherished care,
From childish abuse twined in life's hair, your grace
does rush my eye,

In the many,
amongst the traffic of people, your sweetest self
could not deceive,

Yet...

As your nature calls to itself, to break
my heart (as you're to branch off, and leave.)
Your beauty is the tombstone, And I
sadly won't find my rest.

                                 ....I indeed loved a mistress.