English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Matthew Prior
268. Cloe
T
Conveys it in a borrow’d name:
Euphelia serves to grace my measure,
But Cloe is my real flame.
Upon Euphelia’s toilet lay—
When Cloe noted her desire
That I should sing, that I should play.
But with my numbers mix my sighs;
And whilst I sing Euphelia’s praise,
I fix my soul on Cloe’s eyes.
I sung, and gazed; I play’d, and trembled:
And Venus to the Loves around
Remark’d how ill we all dissembled.