Description of the restlesse state
of a louer. +
W Hen youth had led me half the race, That Cupides scourge had made me runne: I loked backe, to mete the place, From whence my wery course begonne. (5) And then I saw how my desire, Misguidyng me, had led the way: Mine eyen, to gredy of their hyre, Had made me lose a better pray. For when in sighes I spent the day (10) And could not cloke my grief with game: The boylyng smoke did still bewray The persant heat of secrete flame. And when salt teares do bain my brest, where loue his pleasant traines hath sowen: (15) Her beauty hath the frutes opprest, Ere that the buds were sprong and blowne. And when mine eyen did styll pursue The fliyng chace of their request Their gredy lokes did oft renew (20) The hidden wound within my brest. When euery loke these chekes might staine, From deadly pale to glowyng red: By outward signes appeared plaine, To her for help my hart was fled. (25) But all to late loue learneth me, To paint all kinde of colors new: To blinde their eyes that els should see My specled chekes with Cupides hewe. And now the couert brest I claime, (30) That worshipt Cupide secretely, And nourished his sacred flame: From whence no blasyng sparkes do flye.