In Cypres springes, wheras dame Venus dwelt, <br />A well so hote that who so tastes the same, <br />Were he of stone, as thawed yse shuld melt, <br />And kindled fynde his brest with secret flame; <br />Whose moist poison dissolved hath my hate. <br />This creping fier my cold lymms so oprest <br />That in the hart that harbred fredom late <br />Endles dispaire long thraldom hath imprest. <br />One eke so cold in froson snow is found, <br />Whose chilling venume of repugnaunt kind <br />The fervent heat doth quenche of Cupides wound, <br />And with the spote of change infects the mynd; <br />Whereof my deer hath tasted to my payne. <br />My service thus is growne into disdayne. <br /> <br /> <br />-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <br /> <br /> <br />Complaint of the louer disdained <br /> <br />In Ciprus, springes (whereas dame Venus dwelt) <br />A well so hote, that whoso tastes the same, <br />Were he of stone, as thawed yse should melt, <br />And kindled fynde his brest with fired flame. <br />Whose moyst poyson dissolued hath my hate. <br />This creeping fire my colde lims so opprest, <br />That in the hart that harborde freedome late, <br />Endlesse despeyre longe thraldome hath imprest. <br />An other so colde in frozen yse is founde, <br />Whose chilling venom of repugnant kynde <br />The feruent heat doth quenche of Cupides wounde: <br />And with the spot of change infectes the minde: <br />Whereof my dere hath tasted, to my paine. <br />My seruice thus is growen into disdaine.<br /><br />Henry Howard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-cypres-springes-wheras-dame-venus-dwelt/
