Hardened and cold, far from affections snare Was once my mind, my temper, and my life; While I that sight, desire, and vow forbare, Which to avoid, quench, lose, nought boasted strife.

* * * Virtue, beauty, and speech, did strike, wound, charm, My heart, eyes, ears, with wonder, love, delight, First, second, last, did bind, enforce, and arm, His works, shows, suits, with wit, grace, and vows Mine own embraced, sought, knot, fire, disease.

Yet will not I grief, ashes, thraldom change For others ease, their fruit, or free estate; So brave a shot, dear fire, and beauty strange, Bid me pierce, burn, and bind, long time and late, And in my wounds, my flames, and bonds, I find A salve, fresh air, and bright contented mind.

The dart, the beams, the sting, so strong I prove, Which my chief part doth pass through, parch, and tie, That of the stroke, the heat, and knot of love, Wounded, inflamed, knit to the death, I die.

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  • 字号:   默认