 | Amoretti and Epithalamion |  |
XXX.
My love is lyke to yse, and I to fyre;
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolv'd through my so hot desyre,
But harder growes the more I her intreat!
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not delayd by her hart-frosen cold;
But that I burne much more in boyling sweat,
And feele my flames augmented manifold!
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden yse;
And yse, which is congeald with sencelesse cold,
Should kindle fyre by wonderfull devyse!
Such is the powre of love in gentlemind,
That it can alter all the course of kynd.
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolv'd through my so hot desyre,
But harder growes the more I her intreat!
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not delayd by her hart-frosen cold;
But that I burne much more in boyling sweat,
And feele my flames augmented manifold!
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden yse;
And yse, which is congeald with sencelesse cold,
Should kindle fyre by wonderfull devyse!
Such is the powre of love in gentlemind,
That it can alter all the course of kynd.
| Amoretti and Epithalamion | |