But yet it is a sport to see,
How Wit will run on wheels!
While Wit cannot persuaded be,
With that which Reason feels;
"That women's eyes and stars are odd,
And Love is but a feignèd god!"
But such as will run mad with Will,
I cannot clear their sight!
But leave them to their study still,
To look where is no light!
Till time too late, we make them try,
They study false Astronomy!
A Dialogue.
"Come, when I call, or tarry till I come!
If you be deaf, I must prove dumb!
If thy Desire ever knew the grief of delay,
No danger could stand in thy way!
What need we languish? Can Love quickly fly?
Fear ever hurts more than Jealousy!
Then securely, Envy scorning,
Let us end with joy, our mourning!
Jealousy still defy!
And love till we die!"
"Stay awhile! my heavenly Joy!
I come with wings of love,
When envious eyes, time shall remove.
O die not, add this sorrow to my grief,
That languish here, wanting relief.
Then securely, Envy scorning,
Let us end with joy, our mourning!
Jealousy still defy!
And love till we die!"