V

Until sweet Isabella's untouch'd cheek

      Fell sick within the rose's just domain,

Fell thin as a young mother's, who doth seek

      By every lull to cool her infant's pain:

'How ill she is!' said he, 'I may not speak,

      And yet I will, and tell my love all plain:

If looks speak love-laws, I will drink her tears,

And at the least 't will startle off her cares.'