Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/57

Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view,
Like Stars, asham'd of day, themselves withdrew.

Or, as the Snail, whose tender horns being hit
Shrinks backwards in his shelly cave with pain,
And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit,
Long after fearing to creep forth again:
So, at his bloody view her eyes are fled,
Into the deep dark cabins of her head.

Where they resign'd their office and their light,
To the disposing of her troubled brain:
Who bids them still consort with ugly night,
And never wound the heart with looks again,
Who like a King perplexed in his Throne,
By their suggestions gives a deadly grone.

Whereat each tributary Subject quakes,
As when the wind imprison'd in the ground,
Strugling for passage, earths foundation shakes,
Which with cold terrors doth mens minds confound.
This mutiny each part doth so surprise,
That from their dark beds, once more, leap her eyes.

And, being opened, threw unwilling sight
Upon the wide wound that the Boar had trencht
In his soft flank: whose wonted Lilly white
With purple Tears, that his wound wept, was drencht.
No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf or weed,
But stole his blood, and seem'd with him to bleed.

This