Not an angel dwells above
Half so fair as her I love.
Heaven knows how she'll receive me:
If she smiles I'm blest indeed;
If she frowns I'm quickly freed;
Heaven knows she ne'er can grieve me.
None can love her more than I,
Yet she ne'er shall make me die,
If my flame can never warm her:
Lasting beauty I'll adore,
I shall never love her more,
Cruelty will so deform her.
Sir John Vanbrugh.