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Updated: January 18, 2025
A glance that dealt love-sickness dealt me death, * Glances are deadliest things with torments rare: He shook his love locks down and bared his chin, * Whereby I spied his beauties dark and fair: My care, my cure are in his hands; and he * Who caused their dolour can their dole repair: His belt went daft for softness of his waist; * His hips, for envy, to uprise forbear: His brow curl-diademed is murky night; * Unveil 't and lo! bright Morn shows brightest light."
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