Of figure very graceful, with amorous look correct,
Sweet, lovely, full of frolic, mild, with mirth by prudence checked,
Caressing, courteous, lady-like, in wreathed smiles bedecked,
Whom every lady looks upon with love and with respect, —
Lady Venus, wife of Love, at thy footstool low I kneel,
Thou art the paramount desire of all, thy force all feel.
O Love, thou are the master of all creatures; all with zeal
Worship thee for their creator, or for sorrow or for weal.
Kings, dukes, and noble princes, every living thing that is
Fear and serve thee for their being; oh, take not my vows amiss!
Fulfill my fair desires, give good fortune, give me bliss,
And be not niggard, shy, nor harsh; sweet Venus, grant me this!
I am so lost, so ruined, and so wounded by thy dart,
Which I carry close concealed and buried deep in my sad heart,
As not to dare reveal the wound; I dare not e'er impart
Her name, ere I forget her, may I perish with the smart!
I have lost my lively color, and my mind is in decay;
I have neither strength nor spirits, I feel off both night and day;
My eyes are dim, they serve alone to lead my steps astray
If thou do not give me comfort, I shall swoon and pass away.
Replieth Venus:
Tell all thy feelings without fear or being swayed by shame,
To every amorous-looking miss, to every gadding dame;
Amongst a thousand, thou wilt scarce find one that e'er will blame
Thine unembarrassed suit, nor laugh scorn thy tender flame.
If the first wave of the rough sea, when comes roaring near.
Should frighten the rude mariner, he ne'er would plough the clear
With his brass-beaked ship; then ne'er let the first word sever
The first frown, or the first repulse, affright thee from thy dear.
By cunning hardest hearts grow soft, walled cities fall; with care
High trees are felled, grave weights are raised; by cunning many swear
By cunning many perjured are, and fishes by the snare
Are taken under the green wave; then why shouldst thou despair?
Sweet, lovely, full of frolic, mild, with mirth by prudence checked,
Caressing, courteous, lady-like, in wreathed smiles bedecked,
Whom every lady looks upon with love and with respect, —
Lady Venus, wife of Love, at thy footstool low I kneel,
Thou art the paramount desire of all, thy force all feel.
O Love, thou are the master of all creatures; all with zeal
Worship thee for their creator, or for sorrow or for weal.
Kings, dukes, and noble princes, every living thing that is
Fear and serve thee for their being; oh, take not my vows amiss!
Fulfill my fair desires, give good fortune, give me bliss,
And be not niggard, shy, nor harsh; sweet Venus, grant me this!
I am so lost, so ruined, and so wounded by thy dart,
Which I carry close concealed and buried deep in my sad heart,
As not to dare reveal the wound; I dare not e'er impart
Her name, ere I forget her, may I perish with the smart!
I have lost my lively color, and my mind is in decay;
I have neither strength nor spirits, I feel off both night and day;
My eyes are dim, they serve alone to lead my steps astray
If thou do not give me comfort, I shall swoon and pass away.
Replieth Venus:
Tell all thy feelings without fear or being swayed by shame,
To every amorous-looking miss, to every gadding dame;
Amongst a thousand, thou wilt scarce find one that e'er will blame
Thine unembarrassed suit, nor laugh scorn thy tender flame.
If the first wave of the rough sea, when comes roaring near.
Should frighten the rude mariner, he ne'er would plough the clear
With his brass-beaked ship; then ne'er let the first word sever
The first frown, or the first repulse, affright thee from thy dear.
By cunning hardest hearts grow soft, walled cities fall; with care
High trees are felled, grave weights are raised; by cunning many swear
By cunning many perjured are, and fishes by the snare
Are taken under the green wave; then why shouldst thou despair?