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On A Watch Made By A Blacksmith

 A Vulcan and a Venus seldom part.
A blacksmith never us'd to filinge art Beyond a lock and key, for Venus' sake Hath cut a watch soe small that sence will ake In searching every wire, and subtile sphere Which his industrious skill hath order'd theire: It scarce outswells a nut, and is soe light A Ladies eare might well indure the weight.
Twas for a Mistrisse: pitty not his owne, And yet not pitty when her worth is knowne, Or els his love that ownes her: Either's name Is carv'd within the plates: the witty frame Hath made their letters kiss for them, while they Have like the watch one pulse, one sympathy.

Poem by William Strode
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