His eyes no sooner see, but he's straight blind!

His kindred, friends, or foes, he follows faster

Than his own good! He's now but too too kind!

He that spent all, would fain find out Love's treasure!

Extremities are, for extremes the measure.

Thus thinks he, of the words he spent in vain;

And wishes now, his tongue had eloquence!

He's dumb! all motion that a world could gain,

A centre now without circumference!

Cupid, with words who fought! would teach him Art,