“They say, dear boy, that wine and truth agree;
And, being in wine, I’ll tell the truth to thee—
Yes, all that works in secret in my soul.
’Tis this: thou dost not love me with thy whole
Untampered heart. I know; for half my time
Is spent in gazing on thy beauty’s prime;
The other half is nought. When thou art good,
My days are like the gods’; but when the mood
Tormenting takes thee, ’tis my night of woe.
How were it right to vex a lover so?