Or Whether Doth My Mind, Being Crown'D With You, Drink Up The Monarch'S Plague, This Flattery? Or Whether Shall I Say, Mine Eye Saith True, And That Your Love Taught It This Alchemy, To Make Of Monsters And Things Indigest Such Cherubins As Your Sweet Self Resemble, Creating Every Bad A Perfect Best, As Fast As Objects To His Beams Assemble? O! 'Tis The First, 'Tis Flattery In My Seeing, And My Great Mind Most Kingly Drinks It Up: Mine Eye Well Knows What With His Gust Is 'Greeing, And To His Palate Doth Prepare The Cup: If It Be Poison'D, 'Tis The Lesser Sin That Mine Eye Loves It And Doth First Begin.