Ye sacred Fyres, and powers aboue, <br />Forge of desires working loue, <br />Cast downe your eye, cast downe your eye <br />Vpon a Mayde in miserie. <br />My sacrifice is louers blood : <br />And from eyes salt teares a flood : <br />All which I spend, all which I spend <br />For thee Ascanio, my deare friend : <br />And though this houre I must feele <br />The bitter sower of pricking steele, <br />Yet ill or well, yet ill or well <br />To thee Ascanio still farewell<br /><br />John Lyly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eurymine-s-song/
