Sonnet V. Love, with her hair, my Love by force hath tied

Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)

LOVE, with her hair, my Love by force hath tied;

To serve her lips, her eyes, her voice, her hand.

I smiled for joy when I the boy espied

To lie unchained, and live at her command.

She, if She look, or kiss, or sing, or smile;

CUPID withal doth smile, doth sing, doth kiss.

Lips, hands, voice, eyes, all hearts that may beguile;

Because She scorns, all hearts but only this.

VENUS for this in pride began to frown,

That CUPID, born a god, inthralled should be:

She, in disdain, her pretty son threw down;

And in his place, with love she chainèd me.

So now, sweet Love, tho’ I myself be thrall;

Not her a goddess, but thyself, I call.