Love in fantastic triumph sate
Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowd,
For whom fresh pains he did create
And strange tyrannic power he showd:
From thy bright eyes he took his fires,
Which round about in sport he hurld;
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 armd
And set him up a deity;
But my poor heart alone is harmd,
Whilst thine the victor is, and free!