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