Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey 1546: Sonnet VII
In Ciprus ,springs (where as dame Venus dwelt)
A Well so hotte is, that who tastes the same.
Were he of stone, as thawed yse should melt,
And kindled finde his brest with fired flame.
Whose moist poyson dissolved hath my hart.
With crepyng fire my colde lymbs ar supprest,
Feeleth the hert that harborde freedome smart,
Endlesse dispaire long thraldome hath imprest.
An other well of frosen yse is founde,
Whose chilling venome of repugnant kinde
The fervent heat doth quenche of Cupides wounde:
And with the spot of change infects the minde:
Whereof my dere hath tasted, to my paine.
Whereby my service growes into disdaine.
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