XLIII. Fair eyes! sweet lips! dear heart! that foolish I

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

FAIR eyes! sweet lips! dear heart! that foolish I

Could hope, by CUPID’s help, on you to prey:

Since to himself, he doth your gifts apply;

As his main force, choice sport, and easeful stay.

For when he will see who dare him gainsay;

Then with those eyes, he looks. Lo! by and by,

Each soul doth at LOVE’s feet, his weapons lay;

Glad if for her he give them leave to die.

When he will play; then in her lips, he is;

Where blushing red, that LOVE’s self them doth love;

With either lip, he doth the other kiss.

But when he will for quiet’s sake, remove

From all the world; her heart is then his room:

Where, well he knows, no man to him can come.