What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.
If ever (as that ever may be near) you meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, then shall you know the wounds invisible that love's keen, arrows make.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long.