To Cynthia On Her Being An Incendiary Poem by Francis Kynaston

Say (sweetest) whether thou didst use me well,
If when in my hearts house I let thee dwell
A welcome Inmate, and did not require
More than a kisse a day, for rent or hire:
Thou wert not onely pleas'd to stop the rent,
But most ungratefull, burnt the Tenement:
Henceforth it will ensue, that thou didst carry
The branded name of an Incendiary:
No heart will harbour thee, and thou, like poore
As I, may'st lodging beg from doore to doore.
If it be so, my ready course will be
To get a Licence, and re-edifie
My wasted heart. If Cupid shall inquire,
By what mishap my heart was set on fire;
I'le say, my happy fortune was to get
Thy beauties crop, which being greene and wet
With shores of teares, I did to hasty in,
Before that throughly withered it had bin:
So heating in the mowe it soone became
At first a smoke, and afterwards a flame:
At this Loves little King will much admire,
How cold and wet cojoyn'd can cause a fire
Having no heat themselves, but I do know
What he will say, for he will bid me go,
And build my heart of stone; so shall I bee
Safe from the lightning of thine eies, and thee,
The cold, and hardnesse of stone hearts, best serving
For coy greene beauties, and them best preserving,
Yet here is danger; for if thou be in't
My heart to stone, and thine harder then flint,
Knocking together may strike fire, and set
Much more on fire, then hath bin burned yet
If so it hap, then let those flames calcine
My heart to Cinders, so it soften thine:
A heart, which untill then doth serve the turne
To enflame others, but it selfe not burne.