Love in fantastic triumph sate Whilst bleeding hearts around him flow’d, For whom fresh pains he did create And strange tyrannic power he show’d: From thy bright eyes he took his fires, Which round about in sport he hurl’d; But ’twas from mine he took desires Enough t’ undo the amorous world. From me he took his sighs and tears, From thee his pride and cruelty; From me his languishments and fears, And every killing dart from thee. Thus thou and I the god have arm’d And set him up a deity; But my poor heart alone is harm’d, Whilst thine the victor is, and free!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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