Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or like a fairy trip upon the green,
Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.
Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;
Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire.
Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd:
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;
Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny.
This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy,
That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring.
Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear.
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.
Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty.
Grief hath two tongues: and never woman yet,
Could rule them both without ten women's wit.
For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.