IF he that erst the form so lively drew
Of Venus’ face, triumph’d in painter’s art ;
Thy Father then what glory did ensue,
By whose pencil a Goddess made thou art.
Touched with flame that figure made some rue,
And with her love surprised many a heart.
There lack’d yet that should cure their hot desire :
Thou canst inflame and quench the kindled dire.
You May Also Like:
- When Ragyng Loue With Extreme Payne
- The Forsaken Lover Describeth And Forsaketh Love
- The Lover Describeth His Restless State
- Complaint Of A Lover That Defied Love
- When Each Thing, Save The Lover In Spring, Reviveth To Pleasure.
- To The Lady That Scorned Her Lover.
- Complaint Of The Absence Of Her Lover Being Upon The Sea.
- A Constant Lover Lamenteth.