A PAINTER drew the image of the boy,
Swift LOVE, with wings, all naked, and yet blind;
With bow and arrows bent for to destroy.
I blamed his skill; and fault I thus did find:
"A needless task I see thy cunning take:
Misled by love, thy fancy thee betrayed.
Love is no boy, nor blind, as men him make;
Nor weapons wears, whereof to be afraid:
But if thou Love wilt paint with greatest skill;
A Love, a Maid, a goddess, and a Queen!
Wonder and view at LICIA's picture still!
For other Love, the World hath never seen.
For She alone, all hope, all comfort, gives:
Men's hearts, souls all, led by her favour, live."