Witchcraft by a Picture

by John Donne

　　 Pity my picture burning in thine eye;

　　My picture drown'd in a transparent tear,

　　 When I look lower I espy;

　　 Hadst thou the wicked skill

　　By pictures made and marr'd, to kill,

　　How many ways mightst thou perform thy will?

　　But now I've drunk thy sweet salt tears,

　　 And though thou pour more, I'll depart;

　　My picture vanished, vanish all fears

　　 That I can be endamaged by that art;

　　 Though thou retain of me

　　One picture more, yet that will be,

　　Being in thine own heart, from all malice free.