So is her face illumin’d with her eye:
Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix’d,
As if from thence they borrow’d all their shine.
Were never four such lamps together mix’d,
Had not his clouded with his brows’ repine;
But hers, which thro’ the crystal tears gave light,
Shone like the moon in water seen by night.
‘O, where am I?’ quoth she, ‘in earth or heaven,
Or in the ocean drench’d, or in the fire?
What hour is this? or morn, or weary even?
Do I delight to die, or life desire?
But now I liv’d, and life was death’s annoy;
But now I died, and death was lively joy.’
Venus and Adonis, William Shakespeare