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."