Skip to main content
To practice new alarmes
In Jove's great court above,
The wanton Queen of Love,
Of sleeping Mars put on the horrid armes;
Where gazing in a glasse
To see what thing she was,
To mocke and scoffe the blew-eyed maid did move,
Who said, sweet Queen, thus should you have been dight
When Vulcan took you napping with your knight.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.