Parthenophil and Parthenophe Sonnettes, Madrigals, Elegies and Odes [by Barnabe Barnes] |
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SONNET LXVII.
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SONNET LXVII.
[If Cupid keepe his quiuer in thine eye]
If Cupid keepe his quiuer in thine eye,And shoote at ouer-daring, gasers hartes,
Alas why be not men afrayde, and fllye
As from Medusaes, doubting after smartes?
Ah when he drawes his string, none sees his bow,
Nor heares his golden fethred arrowes sing,
Ay me till it be shot no man doth know,
Vntill his hart be pricked with the sting,
Like semblance beares the musket in the field,
It hittes, and killes vnseene, till vnawares
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And thus a pesant, Cæsars glorie dares:
This diffrence left, twixt Mars his field, and loues,
That Cupids souldior shot, more torture proues.
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