When Cupid scalèd first the fort,
Wherein my heart lay wounded sore,
The battery was of such a sort
That I must yield or die therefore.

There saw I Love upon the wall,
And he his banner did display.
Alarm, alarm, he 'gan to call,
And bade his soldiers keep aray.

The arms the which that Cupid bear
Were piercèd hearts, with tears besprent
In silver and sable to declare
The steadfast love he always meant.

There might you see his band all dressed
In colors like to white and black,
With powder and with pellets pressed,
To bring them forth to spoil and sack.

Good Will, the master of the shot,
Stood in the rampart, brave and proud.
Expense of powder he sparèd not,
Assault, assault to cry aloud.

There might you hear the cannon's roar,
Each piece discharged a lover's look,
Which had the power to rent and tore
In any place where as they took.

And even with the trumpet's sound,
The scaling ladders were upset,
And beauty walkèd up and down,
With bow in hand and arrows whet.

Then first Desire began to scale
And shrouded him under his targe,
As on the worthiest of them all,
And aptest for to give the charge.

Then pushèd soldiers with their pikes,
And holberds with handy strokes;
The harquebusade in flesh it lights,
And dims the air with misty smokes.

And as it is now soldier's use,
When shot and powder 'gins to want,
I hang up my flag of truce,
And plead for my life's grant.

When Fancy thus had made her breach,
And Beauty entered with her band,
With bag and baggage seely wretch,
I yielded into Beauty's hand.

Then Beauty bade to blow retreat,
And every soldier to retire,
And mercy wild with speed to fet
Me captive bound as prisoner.

Madame, quoth I, since that this day
Has served you at all assays,
I yield to you without delay.
Here of the fortress all the keys.

And since that I have been the mark
At whom you shot at with your eye,
Needs must you with your handy work,
Or salve my sore, or let me die.