Sonnet XIV. My Love lay sleeping where birds music made

Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)

MY Love lay sleeping where birds music made,

Shutting her eyes, disdainful of the light:

The heat was great; but greater was the shade

Which her defended from his burning sight.

This CUPID saw, and came a kiss to take;

Sucking sweet nectar from her sugared breath.

She felt the touch, and blushed, and did awake.

Seeing ’twas LOVE, which she did think was DEATH,

She cut his wings, and causèd him to stay;

Making a vow, he should not thence depart

Unless to her, the wanton boy could pay

The truest, kindest, and most loving heart.

His feathers still She usèd for a fan;

Till, by exchange, my heart his feathers wan.