In Nature's pieces still I see
Some error that might mended be ;
Something my wish could still remove
Alter or add ; but my fair love
Was framed by hands far more divine
For she hath every 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
Of heaven for her one beauty more
She hath too much divinity for me :
You gods, teach her some more humanity