SONNET 153 |
PARAPHRASE |
Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: |
|
A maid of Dian's this advantage found, |
|
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep |
|
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; |
|
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love |
|
A dateless lively heat, still to endure, |
|
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove |
|
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. |
|
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, |
|
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; |
|
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, |
|
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, |
|
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies |
|
Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes. |
|