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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Elizabethan Verse. 1907.

What Poor Astronomers Are They


WHAT poor astronomers are they,

Take women’s eyes for stars!

And set their thoughts in battle ’ray,

To fight such idle wars;

When in the end they shall approve,

’Tis but a jest drawn out of Love.

And Love itself is but a jest

Devised by idle heads,

To catch young Fancies in the nest,

And lay them in fool’s beds;

That being hatched in beauty’s eyes

They may be fledged ere they be wise.

But yet it is a sport to see,

How Wit will run on wheels;

While Will cannot persuaded be,

With that which Reason feels,

That women’s eyes and stars are odd

And Love is but a feignèd god.

But such as will run mad with Will,

I cannot clear their sight

But leave them to their study still,

To look where is no light,

Till, time too late, we make them try,

They study false Astronomy.