Description of the Restless State of a Lover.
WHEN youth had led me half the race
That Cupid’s scourge had made me run ;
I looked back to mete the place
From whence my weary course begun.
And then I saw how my desire
By guiding ill had led the way:
Mine eyen, to greedy of their hire,
Had made me lose a better prey.
For when in sighs I spent the day,
And could not cloak my grief with game ;
The boiling smoke did still bewray
The present heat of secret flame.
And when salt tears do bain my breast,
Where Love his pleasant trains hath sown ;
Her beauty hath the fruits opprest,
Ere that the buds were sprung and blown.
And when mine eyen did still pursue
The flying chase of their request ;
Their greedy looks did oft renew
The hidden wound within my breast.
When every look these cheeks might stain,
From deadly pale to glowing red ;
By outward signs appeared plain,
To her for help my heart was fled.
But all too late Love learneth me
To paint all kind of colours new ;
To blind their eyes that else should see
My speckled cheeks with Cupid’s hue.
And now the covert breast I claim,
That worshipp’d Cupid secretely ;
And nourished his sacred flame,
From whence no blazing sparks do fly.
