A Song.
SIGHS, blow out those flames in me,
Or else allay them, ye cold fears,
Till so their heat chastised be;
And then I'll quench them with my tears.
But oh! my tears but oil will prove
To feed the flame of my desire:
My fears they stir the coals of love,
My sighs like bellows blow the fire.
But surely I'll not fail of this:
I'll sigh away my soul in air,
Leaving my body cold as is
Her love to me or my despair.
W. R.
From Harl. MS. 6917. fol. 86.
HE or she that hopes to gain
Love's best sweet without some pain,
Hopes in vain.
Cupid's livery no one wears
But must put on hopes and fears,
Smiles and tears,
And, like to April weather,
Rain and shine both together,
Both or neither.