Volta project: fertig :)

Today, the last poem in the book:

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CLIV

  The little Love-god lying once asleep,

  Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,

  Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep

  Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand

  The fairest votary took up that fire

  Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;

  And so the general of hot desire

  Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm'd.

  This brand she quenched in a cool well by,

  Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,

  Growing a bath and healthful remedy,

  For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall,

    Came there for cure and this by that I prove,

    Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.

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Continuing the mythology from yesterday’s sonnet  J  The volta’s the but in the antepenultimate line, and I’ll have to be blogging something different tomorrow.