Fancy and Desire

Come hither, shepherd's swayne.
'Sir, what do you require?'
I pray thee, shew to me thy name.
'My name is Fond Desire.'

When wert thou born, Desire?
'In pompe and prime of May.'
By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot?
'By fond Conceit, men say.'

Tell me, who was thy nurse?
'Fresh youth in sugred joy.'
What was thy meat and daily food?
'Sad sighs with great annoy.'

What hadst thou then to drink?
'Unsavoury lover's tears.'
What cradle wert thou rocked in?
'In hope devoid of fears.'

What lull'd thee then asleep?
'Sweet speech, which likes me best.'
Tell me, where is thy dwelling place?
'In gentle hearts I rest.'

What thing doth please thee most?
'To gaze on beauty still.'
Whom dost thou think to be thy foe?
'Disdain of my good will.'

Doth company displease?
'Yes, surely, many one.'
Where doth Desire delight to live?
'He loves to live alone.'

Doth either time or age
Bring him unto decay?
'No, no. Desire both lives and dies
A thousand times a day.'

Then, fond Desire, farewell,
Thou art no mate for me;
I should be loth, methinks, to dwell
With such a one as thee.