Monday, October 26, 2015

Sonnet CLIII (153)

Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: 
A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; 
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of love 
A dateless lively heat, still to endure, 
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove 
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. 
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, 
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; 
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, 
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, 
   But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
   Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.

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