“
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn.
— Venus and Adonis (Shakespeare poem)
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn.
Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,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;Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
For where Love reigns, disturbing JealousyGives 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, 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.
