 | The Passionate Pilgrime |  |
[On a day (alacke the day)]
On a day (alacke the day)Loue whose month was euer May.
Spied a blossome passing fair,
Playing in the wanton ayre,
Through the veluet leaues the wind
All vnseene gan passage find,
That the louer (sicke to death)
Wisht himselfe the heauens breath,
Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe
Ayre, would I might triumph so
But (alas) my hand hath sworne,
Nere to plucke thee from thy throne,
Vow (alacke) for youth vnmeet,
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet,
Thou for whome Ioue would sweare,
Iuno but an Ethiope were
And deny hymselfe for Ioue
Turning mortall for thy Loue.
| The Passionate Pilgrime | |