THe flaming torch, a shadow of the light, Put out by hasty hand, doth colour change; And black becomes, which seemed before most bright: Nor so to show is any marvel strange. So was I long a lively fire of Love; The heat whereof my body oft did prove: But I, at last, by one who moaned my woe, Extinguished was, by pitiful Disdain. Then if my colour black in face do show, You need not much to wonder at the same; Since 'tis a sign, by part to know the whole, That Love made me a fire, Disdain a coal.
IV.
PArdoned of every wicked fact was he, To Hebe's Temple that, with prayers, came: And, of such grace in sign, his bonds, as free, He left hung up on high within the same. I, Lady, errèd have; and humbly come To thee, who art the Temple fair of Love: Off'ring to thee my prayers, all and some, To free me from my faults, thy heart let move! In token of which gift, with thee I'll leave My jealous thoughts; wherewith I did thee grieve.
V.