TRUE are my thoughts: | my thoughts that are untrue. | |
| Blind are my eyes: | my eyes that are not blind. | |
| New is my love: | my love that is not new. | |
| Kind is that Fair: | that Fair that is not kind. | |
| Thus eyes and thoughts, that fairest Fair, my love; | 5 |
| Blind and untrue, unkind, unconstant prove. | |
| |
| True are my thoughts: | because they never flit. | |
| Untrue my thoughts: | because they me betrayed. | |
| Blind are my eyes: | because in clouds I sit. | |
| Not blind my eyes: | because I looks obeyed. | 10 |
| 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. | 15 |
| 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. | 20 |
| 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. | 25 |
| 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. | 30 |
| |
| 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; | 35 |
| That will not love to ease my pangs and heart. | |
| |
| Proud is her look: | her look that is not proud. | |
| Done all my days: | my days that are not done. | |
| Loud are my sighs: | my sighs that are not loud. | |
| Begun my death: | my death not yet begun. | 40 |
| Thus looks and days, and sighs and death, might move | |
| So kind, so fair, to give consent to love. | |
| |
| Proud is her look: | because she scorns to see. | |
| Not proud her look: | for none dare say so much. | |
| Done are my days: | because they hapless be. | 45 |
| Not done my days: | because I wish them such. | |
| Thus looks and days increase this loving strife; | |
| Not proud, not done, nor dead, nor giving life. | |
| |
| Loud are my sighs: | because they pierce the sky. | |
| Not loud my sighs: | because they are not heard. | 50 |
| My death begun: | because I heartless cry. | |
| But not begun: | because I am debarred. | |
| Thus sighs and death my heart no comfort give: | |
| Both life deny, and both do make me live. | |
| |
| Bold are her smiles: | her smiles that are not bold. | 55 |
| Wise are her words: | those words that are not wise. | |
| Cold are her lips: | those lips that are not cold. | |
| Ice are those hands: | those hands that are not ice. | |
| Thus smiles and words, her lips, her hands, and She | |
| Bold, wise, cold, ice, love’s cruel torments, be. | 60 |
| |
| Bold are her smiles: | because they anger slay. | |
| Not bold her smiles: | because they blush so oft. | |
| Wise are her words: | because they wonders say. | |
| Not wise her words: | because they are not soft. | |
| Thus smiles and words, so cruel and so bold, | 65 |
| So blushing wise, my thoughts in prison hold. | |
| |
| Cold are her lips: | because they breathe no heat. | |
| Not cold her lips: | because my heart they burn. | |
| Ice are her hands: | because the snow ’s so great. | |
| Not ice her hands: | that all to ashes turn. | 70 |
| Thus lips and hands, cold ice, my sorrow bred; | |
| Hands, warm white snow; and lips, cold cherry red. | |
| |
| Small was her waist: | the waist that was not small. | |
| Gold was her hair: | the hair that was not gold. | |
| Tall was her shape: | the shape that was not tall. | 75 |
| Folding the arms: | the arms that did not fold. | |
| Thus hair and shape, those folding arms and waist, | |
| Did make me love; and loving made me waste. | |
| |
| Small was her 1 waist: | because I could it span. | |
| Not small her waste: | because she wasted all. | 80 |
| Gold was her hair: | because a crown it wan. | |
| Not gold her hair: | because it was more pale. | |
| Thus smallest waist, the greatest waste doth make; | |
| And finest hair, most fast a lover take. | |
| |
| Tall was her shape: | because she touched the sky. | 85 |
| Not tall her shape: | because she comely was. | |
| Folding her arms: | because she hearts could tie, | |
| Not folded arms: | because all bands they pass. | |
| Thus shape, and arms, with love my heart did fly; | |
| That hers I am, and must be till I die. | 90 |
| |
| Sad was her joy: | her joy that was not sad. | |
| Short was her stay: | her stay that was not short. | |
| Glad was her speech: | her speech that was not glad. | |
| Sporting those toys: | those toys that were not sport. | |
| Thus was my heart, with joy, speech, toys, and stay, | 95 |
| Possessed with love; and so stolen quite away. | |
| |
| Sad was her joy: | because she did suspect. | |
| Not sad her joy: | because her joy she had. | |
| Short was her stay: | because to small effect. | |
| Long was her stay: | because I was so sad. | 100 |
| Thus joy and stay both crossed a lover’s sport; | |
| The one was sad, the other too too short. | |
| |
| Glad was her speech: | because she spake her mind. | |
| Not glad her speech: | because afraid to speak. | |
| Sporting her toys: | because my love was kind. | 105 |
| Not toys in sport: | because my heart they break. | |
| Thus speech and toys my love began in jest: | |
| Sweet, yield to love! and make thy servant blest! | |
| |
| Tread you the Maze, sweet Love, that I have run: | |
| Mark but the steps, which I imprinted have. | 110 |
| End but your love, whereas my thoughts begun: | |
| So shall I joy, and you a Servant have. | |
| If not, sweet Love, then this my suit deny: | |
| So shall you live, and so your Servant die. | |
