Poem by Thomas Lodge

Sonnets to Phillis. 38

    Who lives enthralled to Cupid and his flame,
    From day to day is changed in sundry sort;
    The proof whereof myself may well report,
    Who oft transformed by him may teach the same.
    I first was turned into a wounded hart,
    That bare the bloody arrow in my side;
    Then to a swan that midst the waters glide,
    With piteous voice presaged my deadly smart;
    Eftsoons I waxed a faint and fading flower;
    Then was I made a fountain sudden dry,
    Distilling all my tears from troubled eye;
    Now am I salamander by his power,
      Living in flames, but hope ere long to be
      A voice, to talk my mistress' majesty.

1. Sonnets to Phillis. 30
2. Sonnets to Phillis. 18
3. Sonnets to Phillis. 25
4. Sonnets to Phillis. 8
5. Sonnets to Phillis. 32

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