O be still, be still, unquiet thoughts, and rest on love's adventer.
 Go no more astray, my wanton eyes, but keep within your centre.
   Delight not yourselves for to stand and gaze
   On the alluring looks of a beautyous face,
   For love is like an endless maze,
 More hard to get out than to enter.

 O but why should I complain of love, since once I have affected?
 My hopes are not yet quite so dead but that I might be respected.
   Yet her often replies say no, no, no,
   It is danger to say so, so, so,
   Which makes my heart very woe, woe, woe,
 For fear I should be rejected.

 O but wherefore should so fair a face retain a heart so cruel?
 Then despair, despair, aspiring thoughts, to gain so rare a jewel.
   O but when I cull and clip and kiss,
   Methinks there hidden treasure is,
   Which whispers in mine ears all this:
 Love's flames require more fuel.