A Beauty smoother than the Ivory playne
Late by the Poxe injuriously was slayne:
Twas not the Poxe: Love shott a thousand darts,
And made those pitts for graves to bury hearts:
But since that Beauty hath regaynde her light,
Those hearts are double slayne, it shines so bright.

William Strode

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-a-gentlewoman-that-had-had-the-small-poxe/