VIII.
Love born in Greece, of late fled from his native place;
Forced by a tedious proof, that Turkish hardened heart
Is no fit mark to pierce with his fine pointed dart:
And pleased with our soft peace, stayed here his flying race.
But finding these North climes do coldly him embrace;
Not used to frozen clips, he strave to find some part
Where, with most ease and warmth, he might employ his art.
At length he perched himself in STELLA'S joyful face;
Whose fair skin, beamy eyes, like morning sun on snow:
Deceived the quaking boy; who thought from so pure light,
Effects of lively heat must needs in nature grow.
But she most fair, most cold, made him thence take his flight
To my close heart; where, while some firebrands he did lay,
He burnt un'wares his wings, and cannot fly away.
IX.
Queen virtue's court—which some call STELLA'S face—
Prepared by Nature's choicest furniture;
Hath his front built of alabaster pure.
Gold is the covering of that stately place.
The door, by which sometimes comes forth her Grace,
Red porphyry is, which lock of pearl makes sure:
Whose porches rich (which name of cheeks endure)
Marble mixt red and white do interlace.
The windows now—through which this heavenly guest
Looks o'er the world, and can find nothing such
Which dare claim from those lights the name of best—
Of touch they are, that without touch do touch;
Which CUPID'S self, from Beauty's mind did draw:
Of touch they are, and poor I am their straw.
