Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ber. A Louers eyes will gaze an Eagle blinde.
Ber. A Louers eare will heare the lowest sound.
Ber. When the suspicious head of theft is stopt.
Ber. Loues feeling is more soft and sensible,
Ber. Then are the tender hornes of Cockle Snayles.
Ber. Loues tongue proues dainty, Bachus grosse in taste,
Ber. For Valour, is not Loue a Hercules?
Ber. Still climing trees in the Hesporides.
Ber. Subtill as Sphinx, as sweet and musicall,
Ber. As bright Apollo's Lute, strung with his haire.
Ber. And when Loue speakes, the voyce of all the Gods,
Ber. Make heauen drowsie with the harmonie.
Ber. Neuer durst Poet touch a pen to write,
Ber. Vntill his Inke were tempred with Loues sighes:
Ber. O then his lines would rauish sauage eares,
Ber. And plant in Tyrants milde humilitie.
Ber. From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue.
Ber. They sparcle still the right promethean fire,
Ber. They are the Bookes, the Arts, the Achademes,
Ber. That shew, containe, and nourish all the world.