My Heart the Anuile, where my Thoughts doe beate,
My Words the Hammers, fashioning my desire,
My Brest the Forge, including all the heate,
Loue is the Fewell, which maintaines the fire;
My Sighes the Bellowes, which the Flame encreaseth,
Filling mine Eares with Noise, and Nightly groning,
Toyling with Paine, my Labour neuer ceaseth,
In grieuous Passions, my Woes still bemoning:
My Eyes with Teares against the fire striuing,
Whose scorching gleed, my heart to Cinders turneth;
But with these Drops, the Flame againe reuiuing,
Still more and more it to my torment burneth:
With Sisiphvs thus doe I role the stone,
And turne the Wheele with damned Ixion.