IN haste, post haste, when first my wandering mind <br />Beheld the glistring Court with gazing eye, <br />Such deep delights I seemed therein to find, <br />As might beguile a graver guest than I. <br />The stately pomp of Princes and their peers <br />Did seem to swim in floods of beaten gold; <br />The wanton world of young delightful year <br />Was not unlike a heaven for to behold, <br />Wherein did swarm (for every saint) a Dame <br />So fair of hue, so fresh of their attire, <br />As might excel Dame Cynthia for Fame, <br />Or conquer Cupid with his own desire. <br />These and such like baits that blazed still <br />Before mine eye, to feed my greedy will.<br /><br />George Gascoigne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-i-19/
