A painter drew the image of the boy, 
Swift love, with wings all naked, and yet blind; 
With bow and arrows, bent for to destroy; 
I blamed his skill, and fault I thus did find 
"A needless task I see thy cunning take; 
Misled by love, thy fancy thee betrayed; 
Love is no boy, nor blind, as men him make, 
Nor weapons wears, whereof to be affrayed; 
But if thou, love, wilt paint with greatest skill 
A love, a maid, a goddess, and a queen; 
Wonder and view at Licia's picture still, 
For other love the world hath never seen; 
For she alone all hope all comfort gives; 
Men's hearts, souls, all, led by her favour lives."