George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham (1628–1687)

WHAT a dull fool was I,

To think so gross a lie,

As that I ever was in love before!

I have, perhaps, known one or two

With whom I was content to be

At that, which they call ‘keeping company.’

But, after all that they could do,

I still could be with more.

Their absence never made me shed a tear;

And I can truly swear,

That, till my eyes first gazed on you,

I ne’er beheld that thing I could adore.

A world of things must curiously be sought,

A world of things must be together brought,

To make up charms which have the power to move,

Through a discerning eye, true love.

That is a masterpiece, above

What only looks and shape can do;

There must be wit, and judgment too;

Greatness of thought, and worth, which draw

From the whole world, respect and awe.

She that would raise a noble love, must find

Ways to beget a passion for her mind,

She must be that, which she, to be would seem;

For all true love is grounded on esteem.

Plainness and truth gain more a generous heart

Than all the crooked subtleties of art.

She must be (what said I?), She must be you.

None but yourself that miracle can do;

At least, I’m sure, thus much I plainly see,

None but yourself e’er did it upon me.

’Tis you alone, that can my heart subdue—

To you alone, it always shall be true!