Deare dame (quoth he) you sleeping sparkes awake,° Which troubled once, into huge flames will grow, 65 Ne ever will their fervent fury slake, Till living moysture into smoke do flow, And wasted life do lye in ashes low. Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire, But told° it flames, and hidden it does glow; 70 I will revele what ye so much desire: Ah Love, lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respire.
It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares, When courage first does creepe in manly chest, Then first the coale of kindly heat appeares 75 To kindle love in every living brest; But me had warnd old Timons wise behest, Those creeping flames by reason to subdew, Before their rage grew to so great unrest, As miserable lovers use to rew, 80 Which still wex old in woe, whiles woe still wexeth new.
That idle name of love, and lovers life, As losse of time, and vertues enimy, I ever scornd, and joyd to stirre up strife, In middest of their mournfull Tragedy, 85 Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry, And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent: Their God himselfe, griev'd at my libertie, Shot many a dart at me with fiers intent, But I them warded all with wary government. 90
But all in vaine: no fort can be so strong, Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sound, But will at last be wonne with battrie long, Or unawares at disadvantage found: Nothing is sure, that growes on earthly ground: 95 And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might, And boasts in beauties chaine not to be bound, Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight, And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most despight.
Ensample make° of him your haplesse joy, 100 And of my selfe now mated, as ye see; Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy Did soone pluck downe and curbd my libertie. For on a day, prickt forth with jollitie Of looser life, and heat of hardiment, 105 Raunging the forest wide on courser free, The fields, the floods, the heavens with one consent Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent.
For-wearied with my sports, I did alight From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd; 110 The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight, And pillow was my helmet faire displayd: Whiles every sence° the humour sweet embayd, And slombring soft my hart did steale away, Me seemed, by my side a royall Mayd 115 Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay: So faire a creature yet saw never sunny day.