XLII
O eyes! which do the spheres of beauty move;
Whose beams be joys; whose joys, all virtues be;
Who while they make LOVE conquer, conquer LOVE.
The schools where VENUS hath learned chastity.
O eyes! where humble looks most glorious prove;
Only, loved tyrants! just in cruelty,
Do not! O do not from poor me remove!
Keep still my zenith! Ever shine on me!
For though I never see them, but straightways
My life forgets to nourish languisht sprites;
Yet still on me, O eyes! dart down your rays!
And if from majesty of sacred lights
Oppressing mortal sense, my death proceed:
Wracks, triumphs be; which love (high set) doth breed.
XLIII.
Fair eyes! sweet lips! dear heart! that foolish I
Could hope, by CUPID'S help, on you to prey:
Since to himself, he doth your gifts apply;
As his main force, choice sport, and easeful stay.
For when he will see who dare him gainsay;
Then with those eyes, he looks. Lo! by and by,
Each soul doth at LOVE'S feet, his weapons lay;
Glad if for her he give them leave to die.
When he will play; then in her lips, he is;
Where blushing red, that LOVE'S self them doth love;
With either lip, he doth the other kiss.
But when he will for quiet's sake, remove
From all the world; her heart is then his room:
Where, well he knows, no man to him can come.
