Sonnet 153


  Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
  A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
  And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
  In a cold valley-fountain of that ground:
  Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love,
  A dateless lively heat still to endure,
  And grew a seeting bath which yet men prove,
  Against strange maladies a sovereign cure:
  But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
  The boy for trial needs would touch my breast,
  I sick withal the help of bath desired,
  And thither hied a sad distempered guest.
    But found no cure, the bath for my help lies,
    Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.


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