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Tytuł: The bolt of cupid felt

  • Wykonawca: Darkseed
  • Wy¶wietleń: 238
When fourty nights shall besiege Your brow
   and dig deep wounds in Your beauty now
   Your youth's prout livery so gazed on me
   tomorrow will be darkened sealed
   Look how a bird lies tangled in a net
   Pure shame and awed resistance made him fred
   So fastened in her arms the favoured lies
   She found more beaty in his varied eyes
   Cut is the branch that might be grown
   with Your faith, the treasure of Your lusty days
   Then being asked where all Your beaty lies
   I say it to Your deep-sunken eyes
   "As if the dead the living should exceed,
   possessed by heavens heart and hand"
   He burns with bashful shame
   She with her tears does quench the maiden
   burning off her cheeks
   Then with her windy sighs and golden hands
   to fain and blow them dry again she seeks
   Look how a painter would surpass his life
   His art with nature's worksmanship at strife
   In limming out a well-proportioned steed
   as if the dead the living should exceed