THe blood of fair Adonis, Venus changed Into a flower: who, whilst he did pursue In forest thick, where as he hunting ranged, The savage boar to kill; the boar him slew. Do thou the like, sweet Love! Do thou the same, Whilst now my life doth languish, through thy power: And whilst my wound makes me for to remain Withouten blood, transform me to a flower! That where I, living, cannot; dead, I may; A lovèd flower in Laura's bosom stay.
XXXVII.
AN ocean Sea of water calm am I; Wherein kind Love the form of Fish doth take, Leaping alongst the shore most wantonly. Then, Lady, of a Fisher don the shape! Ah, what sweet fishing shall you have to like; If Love you chance to catch, while he doth bite? Come then, and naked into this water hie! He cannot 'scape; but, here, perforce must bide! 'Less to my heart, to save himself, he fly. Then quickly strip thyself! Lay fear aside! For of this dainty prey, which thou shalt take; Both Sea, Fish, and Thyself, thou glad shalt make.
XXXVIII.