Giles Fletcher - To Licias XXI lyrics

Licia my love was sitting in a grove, Tuning her smiles unto the chirping songs, But straight she spied where two together strove, Each one complaining of the other's wrongs. Cupid did cry lamenting of the harm; Jove's messenger, thou wrong'st me too too far; Use thou thy rod, rely upon the charm; Think not by speech my force thou canst debar. A rod, Sir boy, were fitter for a child, My weapons oft and tongue and mind you took; And in my wrong at my distress thou smiled, And scorned to grace me with a loving look. Speak you, sweet love, for you did all the wrong That broke his arrows, and did bind his tongue.