Thomas Carew



YOU that think Love can convey
             No other way
But through the eyes into the heart
             His fatal dart,
Close up those casements, and but hear
             This Siren sing ;
             And on the wing
Of her sweet voice it shall appear
That Love can enter at the ear.

Then unveil your eyes : behold
             The curious mould
Where that voice dwells ; and, as we know
             When the cocks crow,
             We freely may
             Gaze on the day,
So may you, when the music's done,
Awake and see the rising sun.

Vincent, Arthur, ed. The Poems of Thomas Carew.
London: George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., nd. 54.

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