![]() | The Works of Michael Drayton | ![]() |
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[Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast beene so slacke]
Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast beene so slacke,To wound her Heart, whose Eyes have wounded me,
And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,
Thus to my aid, I lastly conjure thee;
By Hellish Styx (by which the Thund'rer sweares)
By thy faire Mothers unavoided Power,
By Hecat's Names, by Proserpine's sad Teares,
When she was rapt to the infernall Bower;
By thine owne loved Psyches, by the Fires
Spent on thine Altars, flaming up to Heav'n;
By all true Lovers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,
By all the Wounds that ever thou hast giv'n;
I conjure thee by all that I have nam'd,
To make her love, or Cupid be thou damn'd.
![]() | The Works of Michael Drayton | ![]() |