Sonnet X: A paynter drew, the image of the

A paynter drew, the image of the boye,
Swift love, with winges all naked, and yet blind:
With bowe and arrowes, bent for to destroye,
I blam'd his skill, and fault I thus did fynde:
A needlesse taske, I see thy cunning take,
Misled by love, thy fancie thee betrayde,
Love is no boye, nor blinde, as men him make,
Nor weapons weares, whereof to be affrayde:
But if thou love, wilt paint with greatest skill,
A Love, a mayde, a goddesse, and a Queene:
Woonder, and viewe at Lycias picture still,
For other love, the world hath never seene,
For she alone, all hope, all comfort gives:
Mens hearts, soules all, led by her favour lives.