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 lett the way:

Mine eyen, too 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 secretly;

And nourished his sacred flame,

From whence no blazing sparks do fly.