|Your beauty, ripe and calm and fresh|
...As eastern summers are,
Must now, forsaking time and flesh,
...Add light to some small star. . .
Lovers, whose priests all poets are,
...Think every mistress, when she dies,
Is changed at least into a star:
...And who dares doubt the poets wise?
.....from To a Mistress Dying by Sir William Davenant (1606-68)