FAIR IS MY LOVE AND CRUEL AS SHE'S FAIR

by: Samuel Daniel (1562-1619)

      AIR is my Love and cruel as she's fair;
      Her brow-shades frown, although her eyes are sunny.
      Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair,
      And her disdains are gall, her favours honey:
      A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour,
      Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love;
      The wonder of all eyes that look upon her,
      Sacred on earth, design'd a Saint above.
      Chastity and Beauty, which were deadly foes,
      Live reconcilèd friends within her brow;
      And had she Pity to conjoin with those,
      Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
      For had she not been fair, and thus unkind,
      My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind.

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