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Thomas Campion


The Fovrth Booke of Ayres

1618

XIII. O Loue where are thy Shafts ?

       1  O Loue where are thy Shafts, thy Quiuer and thy Bow ?
       Shall my wounds onely weepe and hee vngaged goe ?
       Be iust and strike him to, that dares contemne thee so.

       2  No eyes are like to thine, though men suppose thee blinde,
       So fayre they leuell when the marke they lift to finde :
       Then strike, ô strike the heart that beares the cruell minde. 

       3  Is my fond sight deceiued ? or doe I Cupid spye
       Close ayming at his breast, by whom despis'd I dye ?
       Shoot home sweet Loue, and wound him that hee may not flye.

       4  O then we both will sit in some vnhaunted shade,
       And heale each others wound which Loue hath iustly made :
       O hope, ô thought too vaine, how quickly dost thou fade ?

       5  At large he wanders still, hie heart is free from paine,
       While secret sighes I spend, and teares, but all in vaine :
       Yet Loue thou know'st by right I should not thus complaine.
    

 

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