Laura. The Toyes of a Traveller. Or. The Feast of Fancie - Part 3, 33
As Sacrifice unto a Goddesse bright
My hart I offered with Devotion great,
Thinking that She Loves Temple had been right.
But what unwares I spide not then in heate,
I (warie) now discerne her for to bee
Of Hell below the rightest crueltee.
I was deceivd, I doo confesse: That smile,
That wanton smile that bred in me delight,
Hid in those lips so faire did mee beguile:
O Beautie false, O crueltie most right.
Flee flee (my Hart) flee then if thou be wise,
Thy hurt, my burning heate, her trecheries.
My hart I offered with Devotion great,
Thinking that She Loves Temple had been right.
But what unwares I spide not then in heate,
I (warie) now discerne her for to bee
Of Hell below the rightest crueltee.
I was deceivd, I doo confesse: That smile,
That wanton smile that bred in me delight,
Hid in those lips so faire did mee beguile:
O Beautie false, O crueltie most right.
Flee flee (my Hart) flee then if thou be wise,
Thy hurt, my burning heate, her trecheries.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.