YOUN MUST NOT WONDER, THOUGH YOU THINK IT STRANGE

by: George Gascoigne (1525?-1577)

      OU must not wonder, though you think it strange,
      To see me hold my lowering head so low;
      And that mine eyes take no delight to range
      About the gleams which on your face do grow.
      The mouse which once hath broken out of trap
      Is seldom teased with the trustless bait,
      But lies aloof for fear of more mishap,
      And feedeth still in doubt of deep deceit.
      The scorched fly which once hath 'scap'd the flame
      Will hardly come to play again with fire.
      Whereby I learn that grievous is the game
      Which follows fancy dazzled by desire.
      So that I wink or else hold down my head,
      Because your blazing eyes my bale have bred.

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