the mask of night As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand, And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart itself plays ‘My heart is full’. O play me some present counsel, or behold ’Twixt my extremes and me this jest now, till thou