Hero, care not though they pry,
I will love thee till I die.
Jealousy is but a smart
That torments a jealous heart.
Crows are black that were white
For betraying loves delight.

They that love to find a fault
May repent what they have sought.
What the fond eye hath not viewed,
Never wretched heart hath rued.
Vulcan then proved a scorn
When he saw he wore a horn.

Doth it then by might behove
To shut up the gates of love?
Women are not kept by force
But by nature's own remorse.
If they list they will stray;
Who can hold that will away?

Jove in golden shower obtained,
His love in a tower restrained.
So perhaps if I could do
I might hold my sweet love too.
Gold, keep out at the door,
I have love that conquers more.

Wherefore did they not suspect
When it was to some effect?
Every little glimm'ring spark
Is perceived in the dark.
This is right; owlets' kind
See by night, by day be blind.