Page 2100 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

154 IT

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 branch she quenchèd in a cool well by,

Which from love’s fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and helpful remedy
For men diseased; but I, my mistress’ thrall,
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,

Love’s fire heats water, water cools not Love.