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Poem by Giles Fletcher the Elder Licia Sonnets 5 Love with her hair my love by force hath tied, To serve her lips, her eyes, her voice, her hand; I smiled for joy, when I the boy espied To lie unchained and live at her command. She if she look, or kiss, or sing, or smile, Cupid withal doth smile, doth sing, doth kiss, Lips, hands, voice, eyes, all hearts that may beguile, Because she scorns all hearts but only this. Venus for this in pride began to frown That Cupid, born a god, enthralled should be. She in disdain her pretty son threw down, And in his place, with love she chainéd me. So now, sweet love, though I myself be thrall, Not her a goddess, but thyself I call. Giles Fletcher the Elder Giles Fletcher the Elder's other poems: 1192 Views |
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