Who ever thinks or hopes of love for love:
Or who, belov'd, in Cupid's laws doth glory:
Who joys in vows, or vows not to remove:
Who by this light god hath not been made sorry:
Let him see me eclipsed from my sun
With dark clouds of an earth quite overrun.
Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidd'n,
Or humble faith in constant honour armed
Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidd'n,
Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed,
Looking on me let him know love's delights
Are treasures hid in cave but kept by sprites.