Should stay my bliss and scatter my desire,
My hope undoing,—yet, though hope should go,
I cannot cease to do what I have tried.
As Elicio finished, straightway Damon, to the sound of the same pipe of Erastro, began to sing in this wise:
DAMON.
Softer than wax was I, when on my breast
I did imprint the image of the face
Of Amaryllis, cruel 'midst her grace,
Like to hard marble, or to savage beast.
'Twas then Love set me in the loftiest