Sonnet CII. Vain gallants! whose much longing spirits tickle

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

VAIN gallants! whose much longing spirits tickle;

Whose brains swell with abundance of much wit,

And would be touched fain with an amorous fit:

O lend your eyes, and bend your fancies fickle!

You, whom Affection’s dart did never prickle!

You, which hold lovers, fools; and argue it!

Gaze on my Sun! and if tears do not trickle

From your much mastered eyes (where Fancies sit):

Then, Eagles! will I term you, for your eyes;

But Bears! or Tigers! for your savage hearts!

But, if it chance, such fountains should arise,

And you made like partakers of my smarts;

Her, for her piercing eyes, an Eagle, name!

But, for her heart, a Tiger, never tame!