The Poetry Corner

A Divine Mistress

By Thomas Carew

In Natures pieces still I see Some error, that might mended be; Something my wish could still remove, Alter or add; but my fair love Was framd by hands far more divine For she hath evry beauteous line; Yet I had been far happier, Had Nature, that made me, made her. Then likeness might, that love creates, Have made her love what now she hates; Yet, I confess, I cannot spare From her just shape the smallest hair; Nor need I beg from all the store Pf heaven for her one beauty more. She hath too much divinity for me; Ye gods, teach her some more humanity.