Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire; that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.

O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!

In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee

Weariness can snore upon the flint when resting sloth finds the down pillow hard.

This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.

Every man has business and desire, Such as it is.