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I sing the fortune of a luckless pair,
Whose spotless souls now in one body be;
For beauty still is Prodromus to care,
Crost by the sad stars of nativity:
And of the strange enchantment of a well,
Given by the Gods, my sportive muse doth write,
Which sweet-lipp'd Ovid long ago did tell,
Wherein who bathes, straight turns Hermaphrodite:
I hope my poem is so lively writ,
That thou wilt turn half-mad with reading it.

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Francis Beaumont

Francis Beaumont, judge, was the eldest son of John Beaumont, sometime master of the rolls, by his second wife Elizabeth, daughter of William Hastings. more…

All Francis Beaumont poems | Francis Beaumont Books

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"Poetry.net" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 22 May 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/>.

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