Sonnet VI. Then on the sodaine fast away he fled

Thomas Watson (1555–1592)

THEN on the sodaine fast away he fled,

He fled apace as from pursuing foe:

Ne euer lookt he backe, ne turnd his head

Vntill he came whereas he wrought my woe.

Tho casting from his backe his bended bow.

He quickly clad himselfe in strange disguise:

In strange disguise that no man might him know,

So coucht himselfe within my Ladies eies.

But in her eies such glorious beames did shine,

That welnigh burnt loues party coloured wings,

VVhilst I stood gazing on her sunne-bright eien,

The wanton boy shee in my bosome flings.

He built his pleasant bower in my brest,

So I in loue, and loue in me doth rest.