When night's blacke Mantle could most darknesse prove, <br />And sleepe (deaths Image) did my senses hyre, <br />From Knowledge of my selfe, then thoughts did move <br />Swifter then those, most swiftnesse neede require. <br />In sleepe, a Chariot drawne by wing'd Desire, <br />I saw; where sate bright Venus Queene of Love, <br />And at her feete her Sonne, still adding Fire <br />To burning hearts, which she did hold above, <br />But one heart flaming more then all the rest, <br />The Goddesse held, and put it to my breast, <br />'Deare Sonne now shoot,' said she: 'thus must we winne;' <br />He her obey'd, and martyr'd my poore heart. <br />I waking hop'd as dreames it would depart, <br />Yet since, O me, a Lover I have beene.<br /><br />Mary Wroth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-pamphilia-to-amphilanthus-sonnet-1/
