Amoretti: Five love songs on poems by 16th and 17th century authors

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As Old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts and calm desires,
Hearts, with equal love combined,
Kindle never dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.

My love is like to ice, and I to fire;
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,
But grows the more I her intreat?
 
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not delay'd by her heart frozen cold,
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat
And feel my flames augmented manifold?
 
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,
And that ice, which is congeal'd with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device?
 
Such is the power of love in gentle mind,
That it can alter all the course of kind.

Fain would I love, but that I fear
I quickly should the willow wear;
Fain would I marry, but men say
When love is tied, he will away.
Then tell me, love, what shall I do
To cure these fears whene'er I woo?
The fair one, she's a mark to all,
The brown each one doth lovely call,
The black's a pearl in fair men's eyes,
The rest will stoop at any prize.
Then tell me, love, what shall I do
To cure these fears whene'er I woo?

A face that should content me wondrous well
Should not be fair, but lovely to behold,
Of lively look, all grief for to repel,
With right good grace, so would I that it should
Speak without such words as none can tell.
The tress also should be of crisped gold,
With wit, and these, perchance I might be tied
And knit again with knot that should not slide.

I prithee send me back my heart
Since I cannot have thine,
For if from yours you will not part
Why then should you keep mine?

Yet now I think on it let it lie
To send it me were vain,
For thou'st a thief in either eye
Will steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie
And yet not lodge together?
O love where is thy sympathy
If thus our hearts thou sever?

But love is such a mystery
I cannot find it out,
For when I think I'm best resolved
Then am I most in doubt.

Then farewell care and farewell woe,
I will no longer pine;
But I'll believe I have his heart
As much as he hath mine.