Sonnet 154
The little Love-god lying once asleep
«William Shakespeare»
The little Love-god lying once asleep,
Laid by his side his
heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs
that vowed chaste life to keep,
Came tripping by, but
in her maiden hand,
The fairest votary
took up that fire,
Which many legions of
true hearts had warmed,
And so the general of
hot desire,
Was sleeping by a
virgin hand disarmed.
This brand she
quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's
fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and
healthful remedy,
For men discased, but
I my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure
and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats
water, water cools not love.
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