So well I love thee, as without thee I
Love nothing; if I might choose, I'd rather die
Than be one day debarr'd thy company.

Since beasts, and plants do grow, and live and move,
Beasts are those men, that such a life approve:
He only lives, that deadly is in love.

The corn that in the ground is sown first dies
And of one seed do many ears arise:
Love, this world's corn, by dying multiplies.

The seeds of love first by thy eyes were thrown
Into a ground untill'd, a heart unknown
To bear such fruit, till by thy hands 'twas sown.

O would that enemy I dread, my fate,
Place me with you in some obscure retreat,
My wishes then would have their utmost bound,
And all I want in your dear arms be found.
By Love's soft passion willingly betrayed,
I'd court the idol which great Love has made,
Thy lovely face, my fancy's only joy,
Whose smiles revive me, and whose frowns destroy.
Yet you, too cruel to the truest heart
That ever loved you, hence resolve to part,
And leave me in return of all my love
A pain which no physician can remove,
No pow'r of reason ever can subdue,

Hide thou thy face in clouds and mysteries
Wield as thou wilt thy power that makes and mars
But hear, that in thy roaring wheel of stars
One atom dares to love thee ere it dies.

Do I say no-one has loved as I love?
I believe thousands have loved as I love
And if thousands have loved a thousand times more than I love
Why so much the better.

Who last shall kiss the lips of love, when love is dead?
Who last shall fold her hands and pillow soft her head?
Who last shall vigil keep beside her lonely bier?
I ask, and from the dark, cold height without, I hear
The mystic answer: " I, her mother, Earth, shall press
Her lips the last, in my infinite tenderness. "

Unto you, most froward, this letter I write
Which hath caused me so longe in despaire.
The goodlinesse of your persone is esye to endite,
For he leveth nat that can youre persone appaire,
So comly best shapen, of feture most faire,
Most fresh of contenaunce, even as an owle
Is best and most favored of ony oder fowle.

Youre manly visage, shortly to declare,
Your forehed, mouth and nose so flatte,
In short conclusion best likened to an hare,
Of alle living thinges, save only a catte.
More wold I sey if I wist what.

Vnhappy youth betrayd by Fate
To such a Love hath Sainted Hate ,
And damned those Caelestiall bands
Are onely knit with equal hands;
The Love of Great Ones? 'Tis a Love
Gods are incapable to prove;
For where there is a Joy uneven,
There never, never can be Heav'n:
'Tis such a Love as is not sent
To Fiends as yet for punishment;
Ixion willingly doth feele
The Gyre of his eternal wheele,
Nor would he now exchange his paine
For Cloudes and Goddesses againe.

Wouldst thou with tempests lye? Then bow

I live in an age of varied powers and knowledge,
Of steam, science, democracy, journalism, art;
But when my love rises like a sea,
I have to go back to an obscure tribe and a slain man
To formulate a blessing.

Underneath this Marble Stone,
Lie two Beauties join'd in one.

Two whose Loves Death could not sever,
For both liv'd, both dy'd together.

Two whose Souls, b'ing too divine
For Earth, in their own Sphere now shine.

Who have left their Loves to Fame,
And their Earth to Earth again.

I will bring you big things:
Colors of dawn-morning,
Beauty of rose leaves,
And a flaming love.

But you say
Those are not big things,
That only money counts.

Well,
Then I will bring you money.
But do not ask me
For the beauty of rose leaves,
Nor the colors of dawn-morning,
Nor a flaming love.