I have within a vase your art had made
Not by your softest hands did craft design
Nor blueprint of your make in me was laid
But in your heartful love you did refine.
To sculpt yet not with trade and practised skill
Have you surpassed the greats that beauty sought
And beauty of your muse do mirrors fill
When so upon the glass your sight is brought.
Yet as I hold the vase I question me:
If I the safest safe to keep it true?
And compliment the rarity to see
That blessed time to art shall give value
But I deprive the other eyes such lease:
I mourn their loss yet vases worth increase.
