The Contest

Come, my Corinna, let us try,
Which loves you best, of You, and I,
I know you oft have in your Glass
Seen the faint shadow of your Face;
And, consequently, then became
A wond'ring Lover, as I am;
Though not so great a one, for what
You saw was but a glimpse of that,
So sweet, so charming Majesty,
Which I in its full Lustre see.
But if you then had gaz'd upon
Your self, as your reflexion,
And seen those Eyes for which I dye,
Perhaps you'd been as sick as I.
Thus Sweetest, then it is confest,
That of us Lovers I love best;
You'll say 'tis reason, that my share
[…]e great as my Affections are,
When you insensibly are grown
More mine, by Conquest, than your own.
But, if this Argument I name
Seem light to such a glorious claim;
Yet, since you love you self, this do,
Love me, at least, for loving you;
So my Despair you may destroy,
And you your loved self enjoy;
Acting those things, can ne're be done,
Whilst you remain your self alone:
So for my Sighs you make amends,
So you have yours, and I my Ends.