When I was yong indewd'd with natures graces
I stoule blind loues strong bow and golden arrowes,
To shoote at redbrestes, goldfinches, and sparrowes:
At shrew'd gyrles, and at boyes in other places
I shot when I was vexed with disgraces:
I perc't no skinne, but melted vp their marrowes,
How many boyes and gyrles, wish't mine embraces?
How many prayz'd my fauour, boue all faces?
But once (Parthenophe) by thy sweet side sitting
Loue had espyed me in a place most fitting
Betray'd by thine eyes beames, which makes blind see:
He shot at me, and said for thine eyes light,
This daring boy that durst vsurpe my right,
Take him a wounded slaue, to loue, and thee.