Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
190 So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
[Is it mine, or Valentine’s praise,]
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
195 She is fair; and so is Julia, that I love.—
That I did love, for now my love is thaw’d;
Which, like a waxen image ’gainst a fire,