By Lady Mary Wroth (1587-1651).
When night's black mantle could most darkness prove,
And sleep (deaths Image) did my senses hire,
From Knowledge of my self, then thoughts did move
Swifter then those, most need require.
In sleep, a Chariot drawn by wing'd Desire,
I saw; where sate bright Venus Queen of Love,
And at her feet her son, still adding fire
To burning hearts, which she did hold above,
But one heart flaming moe then all the rest,
The Goddess held, and put in to my breast,
Dear son now shoot, said she: thus must we win;
He her obey'd and martyr'd my poor heart.
I waking hop'd as dreams it would depart,
Yet since, O Me, a Lover I have been.