To Cynthia
On Concealment of Her Beauty
By Sir Francis Kynaston
Do not conceal thy radiant eyes,
The star-light of serenest skies,
Lest wanting of their heavenly light,
They turn to Choas endless night.
Do not conceal those tresses faire,
The silken snares of thy curl'd hair,
Lest finding neither gold, nor Ore,
The curious Silk-worm works no more.
Do not conceal those breast of thine,
More snowy white than the Apenine,
Lest if there be like cold or frost,
The Lily be forever lost.
Do not conceal that fragrant scent,
Thy breath, which to all flowers hath lent
Perfumes, lest it being supprest,
No spices grow in all the East.
Do not conceal thy heavenly voice,
Which makes the hearts of gods rejoice.
Lest Music hearing no such thing,
The Nightingale forget to sing.
Do not conceal, yet eclipse
Thy pearly teeth with Coral lips,
Lest that the Seas cease to bring forth
Gems, which from thee have all their worth.
Do not conceal no beauty, grace
That's either in thy mind or face,
Lest virtue overcome by vice,
Make men believe no Paradise.
