Silvia.

THe Nymph that undoes me, is fair & unkind
No less then a wonder by Nature design'd;
She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye,
And the cause of a flame that never can die.

Her mouth from whence wit still obligingly flows
Has the beautiful blush, and the smell of the rose;
Love and destiny both attend on her will,
She wounds with a look, with a frown she can kill

The desperate Lover can hope no redress,
Where beautie and rigour are both in excess;
In Silvia they meet, so unhappy am I,
Who sees her most love, & who loves her must die.