Peer Reviewed
- Edition: Venus and Adonis
Venus and Adonis (Modern)
- Texts of this edition
- Facsimiles
812Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast,
813And homeward through the dark laund runs apace,
814Leaves love upon her back, deeply distressed.
815 Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
816 So glides he in the night from Venus' eye.
818Gazing upon a late embarkèd friend
819Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,
820Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend.
821 So did the merciless and pitchy night,
822 Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
824Hath dropped a precious jewel in the flood,
825Or stonisht, as night wanderers often are,
826Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood,
827 Even so confounded in the dark she lay,
828 Having lost the fair discovery of her way.
830That all the neighbor caves, as seeming troubled,
831Make verbal repetition of her moans;
832Passion on passion, deeply is redoubled.
833 "Ay me," she cries, and twenty times, "Woe, Woe,"
834 And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.
836And sings extemporally a woeful ditty
837How love makes young men thrall and old men dote,
838How love is wise in folly, foolish witty.
839 Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe,
840 And still the choir of echoes answer so.