Were every thought an eye, And all those eyes could see, Her subtle wile their sights would beguile, And mock their jealousy. Her fires do inward burn, They make no outward show, And her delights amid the dark shades, Which none discover grow. Desire lives in her heart, Diana in her eyes. 'Twere vain to wish women true, 'tis well, If they prove wise. The flow'rs growth is unseen, Yet every day it grows. So where her fancy is set it thrives, But how none knows. Such a love deserves more grace Than a truer heart that hath no conceit, To make use both of time and place, When a wit hath need of all his sleight.
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 21
Word count: 117