O with thy smile thou could make angels fall
whilst the prince of hell would turn from all sin,
angels and demons would forsake their call
while their respective realms turn'd outside in;
would Romeo forsake his Juliet —
ay, a glimpse of thee would be all he'd need
and fair Verona could turn cold and wet
forsaken by the fair sun by one deed.
Nuns to riot and Kings down on their knees
such is the way of Aphrodite's hand,
and none of her choosing know her decrees
until too late as Aphrodite planned —
ay me! for ne'er such beauty such as thine
has shown in stone, in paint, or read in line.