Page:Hesperides Vol 2.djvu/102

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830. HIS LOSS.

All has been plundered from me but my wit:
Fortune herself can lay no claim to it.


831. DRAW AND DRINK.

Milk still your fountains and your springs: for why?
The more th'are drawn, the less they will grow dry.


833. TO OENONE.

Thou say'st Love's dart
Hath pricked thy heart;
And thou dost languish too:
If one poor prick
Can make thee sick,
Say, what would many do?


836. TO ELECTRA.

Shall I go to Love and tell,
Thou art all turned icicle?
Shall I say her altars be
Disadorn'd and scorn'd by thee?
O beware! in time submit;
Love has yet no wrathful fit:
If her patience turns to ire,
Love is then consuming fire.