A lover I'm born and a lover I'll be,
And hope from my love I shall never be free.
Let wisdom abound in teh grave womanhater,
Yet never to love is a sign of ill nature.
But he who loves well and whose passion is strong
Can never be wretched, but ever be young.

With hopes and with fears, like a ship in the ocean,
Our hearts are kept dancing, and ever in motion:
When our passion is pall'd and our fancy would fail,
Some little quarrel supplies a fresh gale:
But when the doubt's clear'd and the jealousy's gone
How we kiss and embrace, and can never have done.