XIV. The swift Meander, turning, winds so fast

Robert Tofte (1561–1620)

THE SWIFT Meander, turning, winds so fast,

And with his stream in circle-wise so runs;

That, wanton-like, from whence he springs, at last,

Back to his fountain-head again he comes.

In me, a river huge of tears, from heart

To watery eyes ascend; from whence they flow,

And running down, do from mine eyes depart,

Descending to my heart again below.

So that, through virtue of most mighty Love,

In heart, a new Meander I do prove.