John Dowland
Were every thought an eye
Were every thought an eye
And all those eyes could see
Her subtill wiles their sights would beguile
And mocke their jelousie
Her fires doe inward burne
They make no outward show
And her delights amid the dark shades
Which none discover, grow
Desire lives in her heart
Diana in her eyes
T’were vaine to wish women true, t’is well
If they prove wise
The flowers growth is unseene
Yet every day it growes
So where her fancy is set it thrives
But how none knowes
Such a Love deserves more grace
Then a truer heart that hath no conceit
To make use both of time and place
When a wit hath need of all his sleight