You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.
Ye moon and stars, bear witness to the truth.
He is a perpetual fountain of good sense.
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.
Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd; The next, in majesty; in both the last. The force of Nature could no further go; To make a third, she join'd the former two.