154
The little Loue-God lying once a ſleepe,
Laid by his ſide his heart inflaming brand,
Whilſt many Nymphes that vou’d chaſt life to keep,
Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand,
The fayreſt votary tooke vp that fire,
Which many Legions of true hearts had warm’d,
And ſo the Generall of hot deſire,
Was ſleeping by a Virgin hand diſarm’d.
This brand ſhe quenched in a coole Well by,
Which from loues fire tooke heat perpetuall,
Growing a bath and healthfull remedy,
For men diſeaſd,but I my Miſtriſſe thrall,
Came there for cure and this by that I proue,
Loues fire heates water,water cooles not loue.
F I N I S.
Zie ook het online-facsimile van de oorspronkelijke uitgave (site helaas niet altijd bereikbaar).
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