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1564–1616

153

William Shakespeare

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep: A maid of Dian's this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;

Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love, A dateless lively heat, still to endure, And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.

But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,

But found no cure, the bath for my help lies Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.

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153 · William Shakespeare · Poetry Cove