Page:Cherry and the sloe.pdf/8

Rh As Scorn comes commonly with Scaith, So I behov’d to bide them baith So fickle was my fate! In stead of cheer I got a check Which I might not return or wreck; ’Twas bootless to debate. My pride and pain were so extreme, I swelt’ring swoon’d for fear; But ere I waken’d of my dream, He spoil’d me of my gear, With flight then, on height then, Sprang Cupid in the skies. Forgetting and letting At nought my careful cries.

So long with looks I follow’d him. My dazzl’d sight grew dark and dim With staring on the stars, Which flew so fast before my eyes, Red, yellow, blue, of various dyes: My wits went all at wars, And every thing appeared two To my bewilder’d brain: But long might I lie looking so, Ere Cupid came again; While thund’ring, with wond’ring, I heard up in the air, Thro’ clouds so, he shrouds so, And flew I wist not where.

What time the little god was gone, And I in languor left alone In weariness and wo, Sometimes sighing, sometimes sad, Sometimes musing, sometimes mad: I wist not what to do. And now I rave, and now I rage, Deserted, in despair;