 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
AMOUR. 30.
Three sorts of Serpents doe resemble thee,
That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
Th'inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
The weeping Crocodile: these vile pernicious three.
That daungerous eye-killing Cockatrice,
Th'inchaunting Syren, which doth so entice,
The weeping Crocodile: these vile pernicious three.
The Basiliske his nature takes from thee,
Who for my life in secrete waite do'st lye,
And to my hart send'st poyson from thine eye,
Thus do I feele the paine, the cause, yet cannot see.
Who for my life in secrete waite do'st lye,
And to my hart send'st poyson from thine eye,
Thus do I feele the paine, the cause, yet cannot see.
Faire-mayd no more, but Mayr-maid be thy name,
Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
And like a Tyrant mak'st my griefe thy game.
Thou Crocodile, who when thou hast me slaine,
Lament'st my death, with teares of thy disdaine.
Who with thy sweet aluring harmony
Hast playd the thiefe, and stolne my hart from me,
And like a Tyrant mak'st my griefe thy game.
Thou Crocodile, who when thou hast me slaine,
Lament'st my death, with teares of thy disdaine.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |