Sonnet 154

1 The little Love-god lying once asleep,
2 Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
3 Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep,
4 Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand,
5 The fairest votary took up that fire,
6 Which many legions of true hearts had warmed,
7 And so the general of hot desire,
8 Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarmed.
9 This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
10 Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual,
11 Growing a bath and healthful remedy,
12 For men diseased; but I, my mistress’ thrall,
13 Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
14 Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.