The Lover compareth his Heart to the overcharged Gun

THE FURIOUS gun in his most raging ire,

When that the bowl is rammed in too sore,

And that the flame cannot part from the fire;

Cracks in sunder, and in the air do roar

The shivered pieces. So doth my desire;

Whose flame increaseth aye from more to more;

Which to let out, I dare not look, nor speak;

So inward force my heart doth all to break.