I saw a flaske of powder burne a day?
Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
10If once into loves hands it come!
All other griefes allow a part
To other griefes, and aske themselves but some;
They come to us, but us Love draws,
Hee swallows us, and never chawes:
15By him, as by chain'd shot, whole rankes doe dye,
He is the tyran Pike, our hearts the Frye.