Canzon 28. When clear hath been thy brow, and free from wrinkle

Anonymous

WHEN clear hath been thy brow, and free from wrinkle,

(Thy smoothèd brow, my soul’s sole hierarchy!)

When sweetly hath appeared in cheek the dimple,

There LOVE enthroned sways powerful monarchy!

Glad have I, then, rich statues to his deity

Erected. Then, have I his altar hallowed!

His rights, I held, with high solemnity!

His Trophy decked, and it with rosebuds strewed!

I kissed thy cheek! Then thou, with gold artillery,

Hast him engirt, tasselled with purple twine,

(Featly contrived to hang his quiver by)

Besides a crimson scarf to veil his eyne:

But, see! No sooner was he gay apparelled,

But that, false Boy! away from us he fled!