Moderatvs The most delectable & famous Historie of the Blacke Knight [by Robert Parry] |
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[The vaine delightes that please the curious eye] |
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[The vaine delightes that please the curious eye]
The vaine delightes that please the curious eye,
By proofe I finde to turne vnto their paine,
Such obiectes rare do darke the sence: for why,
The beames thereof reflecting, pierce againe
With double force the faithfull Louers brest,
Vntill by stealth it robbes his quiet rest.
By proofe I finde to turne vnto their paine,
Such obiectes rare do darke the sence: for why,
The beames thereof reflecting, pierce againe
With double force the faithfull Louers brest,
Vntill by stealth it robbes his quiet rest.
The pinching paine that doeth torment the minde,
Is more increas'd by glauncing of the eye,
Which can no where a quiet habour finde,
But in the heart, such is his vrgent might.
The vertue then of a light rowling looke,
Vnder a baite doeth hide a hydeous hooke.
Is more increas'd by glauncing of the eye,
Which can no where a quiet habour finde,
But in the heart, such is his vrgent might.
The vertue then of a light rowling looke,
Vnder a baite doeth hide a hydeous hooke.
Like Iett attractiue, and like pearcing steele,
The heauiest things vnto it selfe it drawes,
Nothing so hard, but yeeldes: wherefore I feele
My heart is drawen vnto his proscript Lawes,
And pearced eke by force of subtill sight,
Wherefore I yeeld vnto his lawlesse might.
The heauiest things vnto it selfe it drawes,
Nothing so hard, but yeeldes: wherefore I feele
My heart is drawen vnto his proscript Lawes,
And pearced eke by force of subtill sight,
Wherefore I yeeld vnto his lawlesse might.
His might hath captiue tane my pensiue heart,
His might hath made my hauty brest to bend,
His might hath turned my iesting vnto smart,
His might enforst me scalding sighes to send
From skorched brest, where carefull thoughtes enioy
Hope of nought els, but liuing in annoy.
His might hath made my hauty brest to bend,
His might hath turned my iesting vnto smart,
His might enforst me scalding sighes to send
From skorched brest, where carefull thoughtes enioy
Hope of nought els, but liuing in annoy.
When brutish beastes doe chew their cuddes in shade,
Nought doe they care for barren winters foode,
Who knew but shallow foords, feares not to wade:
Euen so each louer in his merrie moode,
(When fortune smiles and holdes him in her lappe)
Thinkes not this calme doeth breede an after-clappe.
Nought doe they care for barren winters foode,
Who knew but shallow foords, feares not to wade:
Euen so each louer in his merrie moode,
(When fortune smiles and holdes him in her lappe)
Thinkes not this calme doeth breede an after-clappe.
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