The Sonnets

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep:

A maid of Dianʼs this advantage found,

And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep

In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;

Which borrowʼd 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 mistressʼ eye Loveʼs 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 distemperʼd guest,

But found no cure, the bath for my help lies

Where Cupid got new fire; my mistressʼ eyes.