LOVE in fantastic triumph sate   Whilst bleeding hearts around him flow'd, For whom fresh pains he did create   And strange tyrannic power he show'd: From thy bright eyes he took his fires,   Which round about in sport he hurl'd; But 'twas from mine he took desires   Enough t' undo the amorous world.

From me he took his sighs and tears,   From thee his pride and cruelty; From me his languishments and fears,   And every killing dart from thee. Thus thou and I the god have arm'd   And set him up a deity; But my poor heart alone is harm'd,   Whilst thine the victor is, and free!