Classic Poem

A Sonnet Pastorall between Coridon and Phillis Corid:

Phillis fayr, and why soe Coy?
Doth the wingd and spightfull Boy
Soe contrive His cunning Art
To make Thy Comelines my smart.
Or is it thus? must Thou become
Chief Glory of my martirdome? Phill:

Noe (fond youth) be not unkind
To thy self, since Cupid's blind
And endeavours main and might
For to bereav us of our sight
Until we groap as in the darke
Th'out other light save from His spark. Both in Chorus

If it be soe, then let's be wise
Nor farther prise
Those misteries
Presented only to the eyes
When 'tis the hart
That must impart
Those sacred fires
Of chast desires
And thus agreed in one
Phillis again may like her Coridon.