To Amoret.[1]

Fair! that you may truly know What you unto Thyrsis owe, I will tell you how I do Saccharissa love and you.

Joy salutes me, when I set My bless'd eyes on Amoret; But with wonder I am strook, While I on the other look.

If sweet Amoret complains, I have sense of all her pains; But for Saccharissa I Do not only grieve, but die.

All that of myself is mine, Lovely Amoret! is thine; Saccharissa's captive fain Would untie his iron chain, And, those scorching beams to shun, To thy gentle shadow run.

If the soul had free election To dispose of her affection, I would not thus long have borne Haughty Saccharissa's scorn; But 'tis sure some power above, Which controls our wills in love!

If not love, a strong desire To create and spread that fire In my breast, solicits me, Beauteous Amoret! for thee.

'Tis amazement more than love, Which her radiant eyes do move; If less splendour wait on thine, Yet they so benignly shine, I would turn my dazzled sight To behold their milder light; But as hard 'tis to destroy That high flame, as to enjoy; Which how eas'ly I may do, Heaven (as eas'ly scaled) does know!

Amoret! as sweet and good As the most delicious food, Which, but tested, does impart Life and gladness to the heart.

Saccharissa's beauty's wine, Which to madness doth incline; Such a liquor as no brain That is mortal can sustain.

Scarce can I to heaven excuse The devotion which I use Unto that adorèd dame; For 'tis not unlike the same Which I thither ought to send; So that if it could take end, 'Twould to heaven itself be due To succeed her, and not you, Who already have of me All that's not idolatry; Which, though not so fierce a flame, Is longer like to be the same.

Then smile on me, and I will prove Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.

'Amoret': see 'Life.'