Sonnet I. In prime of youthly yeares as then not wounded

Thomas Watson (1555–1592)

IN prime of youthly yeares as then not wounded,

With Loues impoisoned dart or bitter gall:

Nor minde nor thought son fickle Fancie grounded

But carelesse hunting after pleasures ball.

I tooke delight to laugh at Louers follie,

Accounting beautie but a fading blossome:

What I esteemed prophane, they deemed holie,

Ioying the thraldome which I counted loathsome.

Their plaints were such as no thing might relieue them,

Their harts did wellnie breake loues paine induring:

Yet still I smild to see how loue did grieue them,

Vnwise they were their sorrowes selfe procuring.

Thus whilst they honoured Cupid for a God,

I held him as a boy not past the rod.