John Wilson (1595–1674)

WHEN on mine eyes her eyes first shone,

I all amazèd

Steadily gazèd,

And she to make me more amazèd,

So caught, so wove, four eyes in one

As who had with advisement seen us

Would have admired love’s equal force between us.

But treason in those friend-like eyes,

My heart first charming

And then disarming,

So maimed it, e’er it dreamed of harming,

As at her mercy now it lies,

And shews me, to my endless smart,

She loved but with her eyes, I with my heart.