PEELE, George



What thing is love?

What thing is love? for sure love is a thing.

It is a prick, it is a sting,

It is a pretty, pretty thing;

It is a fire, it is a coal,

Whose flame creeps in at every hole;

And as my wit doth best devise,

Love's dwelling is in ladies' eyes,

From whence do glance love's piercing darts,

That make such holes into our hearts;

And all the world herein accord,

Love is a great and mighty lord;

And when he list to mount so high,

With Venus he in heaven doth lie,

And evermore hath been a god,

Since Mars and she played even and odd.