Thus eyes and thoughts, my dearest Fair, may view
In sight, in love, nor blind, nor yet untrue.

New is my love: because it never dies.
Old is my love: because it ever lives.
Kind is that Fair: because it hate denies.
Unkind that Fair: because no hope it gives.

Thus new my love, and still that Fair unkind,
Renews my love; and I no favour find.

Sweet are my dreams: my dreams that are not sweet.
Long are the nights: the nights that are not long.
Meet are the pangs: these pangs that are unmeet.
Wronged is my heart: my heart that hath no wrong.

Thus dreams and night, my heart, my pangs, and all,
In taste, in length, conspire to work my fall.

Sweet are my dreams: because my Love they show.
Unsweet my dreams: because but dreams they are.
Long are the nights: because no help I know.
Meet are the nights: because they end my care.

Thus dreams and nights, wherein my Love takes sport,
Are sweet, unsweet; are long, and yet too short.

Meet are my pangs: because I was too bold.
Unmeet my pangs: because I loved so well.
Wronged was my heart: because my grief it told.
Not wronged. For why? My grief it could not tell.

Thus you, my Love, unkindly cause this smart;
That will not love to ease my pangs and heart.