Edward Sherburne

"There's no dallying with love Though he be a child and blind; Then let none the danger prove, Who would to himself be kind: Smile he does when thou dost play, But his smiles to death betray.Lately with the Boy I sported; Love I did not, yet love feigned; Had not mistress, yet I courted; Sighed I did, yet was not pained; Till at last this love in jest, Proved in earnest my unrest.When I saw my fair one first, In a feigned fire I burned; But true love my poor heart pierced, When her eyes on mine she turned: So a real wound I took, For my counterfeited look.Slighted Love, his skill to show, Struck me with a mortal dart; Then I learnt that 'gainst his bow, Vain are the weak helps of art; And thus captived, found that true Doth dissembled love pursue."