Ïðî÷èòàíèé :  133
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Òâîð÷³ñòü |
Á³îãðàô³ÿ |
Êðèòèêà
Beauty, since you so much desire
Beauty, since you so much desire
To know the place of Cupids fire,
About you somewhere doth it rest,
Yet neuer harbour'd in your brest,
Nor gout-like in your heele or toe;
What foole would seeke Loues flame so low?
But a little higher, but a little higher,
There, there, ô there lyes Cupids fire.
Thinke not, when Cupid most you scorne,
Men iudge that you of Ice were borne;
For though you cast loue at your heele,
His fury yet sometime you feele:
And where-abouts if you would know,
I tell you still not in your toe:
But a little higher, but a little higher,
There, there, ô there lyes Cupids fire.
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