“Who sees his true-love in her naked bed, Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white, But when his glutton eye so full hath fed, His other agents aim at like delight? 400 Who is so faint that dare not be so bold To touch the fire, the weather being cold? “Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy, And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee, 404 To take advantage on presented joy, Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee. O learn to love, the lesson is but plain, And once made perfect, never lost again.” 408 “I know not love,” quoth he, “nor will not know it, Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it; ’Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it; My love to love is love but to disgrace it; 412 For I have heard, it is a life in death, That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath. “Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish’d? Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth? 416 If springing things be any jot diminish’d, They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth; The colt that’s back’d and burden’d being young, Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong. 420 “You hurt my hand with wringing. Let us part, And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat: Remove your siege from my unyielding heart, To love’s alarms it will not ope the gate: 424 Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flatt’ry; For where a heart is hard they make no batt’ry.” “What! canst thou talk?” quoth she, “hast thou a tongue? O would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing; 428 Thy mermaid’s voice hath done me double wrong; I had my load before, now press’d with bearing: Melodious discord, heavenly tune, harsh-sounding, Ear’s deep sweet music, and heart’s deep sore wounding. “Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love 433 That inward beauty and invisible; Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move Each part in me that were but sensible: 436 Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, Yet should I be in love by touching thee. “Say that the sense of feeling were bereft me, And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, 440 And nothing but the very smell were left me, Yet would my love to thee be still as much; For from the stillitory of thy face excelling Comes breath perfum’d, that breedeth love by smelling. “But oh what banquet wert thou to the taste, 445 Being nurse and feeder of the other four; Would they not wish the feast might ever last, And bid suspicion double-lock the door, Lest jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest, Should by his stealing in disturb the feast?” 448 Once more the ruby-colour’d portal open’d, Which to his speech did honey passage yield, 452 Like a red morn that ever yet betoken’d Wrack to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds. 456