The Retreat

I Am return'd, my Fair, but see
Perfection in none but thee:
Yet many Beauties have I seen,
And in that Search a Truant been,
Through Fruitless Curiosity.

I've been to see each blear-ey'd Star,
Fond Men durst with thy light compare;
And, to my admiration, find,
That all, but I, in Love are blind,
And none but Thee, divinely fair.

Here then I fix, and now grown wise,
All Objects, but thy face, despise,
(Taught by my folly) now I swear,
If you forgive me, ne're to err,
Nor seek Impossibilities.