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- # VENYS AND ADONIS:
VVitin this limit is relieve inough,
Sweet bottoming graffe, and high delightful plaine,
Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure, and rough,
To shelter thee from tempests, and from raine:
Then be my deare, since I am such a parke,
No dog shal rowze thee, though a thousand bark.
At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
That in each cheeke appears a prettie dimple;
Loue made those hollowes, if him selfe were slaine,
He might be buried in a tombe so simple,
Fore knowing well, if there be came to lie,
VVhy there loue liud, & there he could not die.
These louely caues, these round inchening pits,
Opend their mouths to swallow Venus liking:
Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
Strucke dead at first, what needs a second striking?
Poore Queene of loue, in thine own law forlorne,
To loue a cheeke that smiles at thee in scorne.
Now which way shall she turne? what shall she say?
Her words are done, her woes the more increasing,
The time is spent, her object will away,
And from her twining armes doth urge releasing:
Pitie she cries, some fauour, some remorse,
Away he springs, and hasteth to his horse.
C ij
ll. 235—258
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