No more a man (as once I was) am I
Since this new Circes (moov'd by fierce disdaine)
Hath changd me to a fountaine never drie
Wherein my selfe with bitter teares I baine.
Then am I one, who alway eyes doo beare,
And brest of water flowing onely full:
Take heed you Lovers all of her, and feare
The sugred baites of this deceitfull Trull.
Least by this Circe new you be deceav'd
As I have been, and be of shape bereav'd.