Ovid's Narcissus

"For as his own bright Image he survey’d,
He fell in love with the fantastick Shade;
And o’er the fair Resemblance hung unmov’d,
Nor knew, fond Youth! it was himself he lov’d.
The well-turn’d Neck and Shoulders he descries,
The spacious Forehead, and the sparkling Eyes;
The hands that Bacchus might not scorn to show,
And Hair that round Apollo’s Head might flow;
With all the PurpleYouthfulness of Face,
That gently blushes in the watry Glass,
By his own Flames consum’d the Lover lyes,
And gives himself the Wound by which he dies."

Metamorphoses, Pp. 98–101