To see his face the lion walk'd along Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him; The tiger would be tame and gently hear him; If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey, "When he beheld his shadow in the brook, 1100 Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries; 'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar, gave: IIIO 'Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain : And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine • Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess, With this, she falleth in the place she stood, She looks upon his lips, and they are pale ; 1120 She lifts the coffer lids that close his eyes, Two glasses, where herself herself beheld A thousand times, and now no more reflect; 1130 'Wonder of time,' quoth she, this is my spite, That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light. 'Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy, Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend: It shall be waited on with jealousy, Find sweet beginning but unsavoury end; Ne'er settled equally, but high or low, That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe. 1141 It shall be fickle, false and full of fraud; Bud, and be blasted, in a breathing-while; The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile : The strongest body shall it make most weak, Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak. 'It shall be sparing and too full of riot, Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures; The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures; 'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear; It shall not fear where it should most mistrust; 1151 And most deceiving when it seems most just; It shall be cause of war and dire events, And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire; Subject and servile to all discontents, As dry combustious matter is to fire: Sith in his prime death doth my love destroy 1160 By this the boy that by her side lay kill'd Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood 1169 She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell, And says, within her bosom it shall dwell, She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears 'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy father's guise— Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire— eyes: For And so 'tis thine; but know, it is as good 1180 |