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Epitaphes, Epigrams, Songs and Sonets

with a Discourse of the Friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his Ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile
 

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To Cupid for reuenge of his vnkind and cruell Loue. Declaring his faithfull seruice and true hart both to the God of Loue and his Ladie.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

To Cupid for reuenge of his vnkind and cruell Loue. Declaring his faithfull seruice and true hart both to the God of Loue and his Ladie.

If I had beene in Troyan ground
When Ladie Venus tooke hir wound:
If I in Greekish campe had beene,
Or clad in armour had beene seene:
If Hector had by mee beene slaine,
Or Prince Æneas put to paine:
If I the Machin huge had brought,
By Grecian guile so falsely wrought,
Or raysed it aboue the wall,
Of Troie that procurde the fall:

[106]

Then could I not thee (Cupid) blame,
If thou didst put mee to this shame.
But I haue alwaies beene as true
To thee and thine in order due,
As euer was there any Wight,
That fayth and truth to Cupid plight.
I neuer yet despise thy lawe,
But aye of thee did stand in awe:
I neuer callde thee Bussard blinde,
I no such fault in thee did finde,
But thought my time well spent to bee
That I imploide in seruing thee.
I wiste thou wert of force and powre
To conquere Princes in an howre
When thou retaindst mee as thy man
I thought my selfe most happie than.
Since this is true that I haue saide,
Good Cupid let mee haue thy aide,
Helpe mee to wreake my wrath aright
And succor mee to worke my spight.
To thee it appertaines of due
Him to assist that is so true:
And thou of reason shouldst torment
Such as by wilfull will are bent
To triumph ouer those that serue
Thee in the field, and neuer swerue,
Go bend thy Bowe with hastie speede,
And make hir Tigers hart to bleede.

107

Cause hir that little sets by mee,
Yet still to stand in awe of thee.
Let hir perceiue thy feruent fire,
And what thou art in raging ire,
Now showe thy selfe no man to bee,
Let hir a God both feele and see.
She forceth not my cutting paine,
Hir vowed othes shee wayes as vaine.
Shee sits in peace at quiet rest,
And scornes at mee so dispossest.
Shee laughes at thee, and mocks thy might,
Thou art not Cupid in hir sight.
Shee spites at mee without cause whie,
Shee forceth not although I die.
I am hir captiue bounde in Giue
And dare not once for lyfe to striue.
The more to thee I call and crie,
To rid mee from this crueltie,
The more shee seekes to worke hir ire,
The more shee burnes with scalding fire.
And all for Cupids sake I bide,
From whose decrees I doe not glide.
Wherefore (I say) go bende thy Bow,
And to hir hart an Arrow throw:
That Dart which breaketh harts of flint
And giues the cruell crasing dint,
Upon hir crabbed breast bestow,
That shee thy force and powre may know:

[107]

That shee a Myrrour may be knowne
To such as be thy deadly fone,
So shall they good example take,
How to abuse men for thy sake.
Let hir (good Cupid) vnderstande,
That I am thine both hart and hande.
And to play quittance force a fire,
That shee may frie with whote desire
Of me, whome earst she put to paine,
And this is all that I would gaine.