And would you fain the reason know,
  Why my sad eyes so often flow ? 
My heart ebbs joy, when they do so, 
  And loves the moon by whom they go. 

And will you ask, "Why pale I look?"
  'Tis not with poring on my book : 
My mistress' cheek, my blood hath took, 
  For her, mine own hath me forsook. 

Do not demand, "Why I am mute?"
  Love's silence doth all speech confute.
They set the note, then tune the lute ; 
  Hearts frame their thoughts, then tongues their suit. 

Do not admire, "Why I admire?"
  My fever is no other's fire : 
Each several heart hath his desire ; 
  Else proof is false, and truth a liar. 

If why I love you should see cause!
  Love should have form like other laws, 
But Fancy pleads not by the clause : 
  'Tis as the sea, still vext with flaws.

No fault upon my love espy : 
  For you perceive not with my eye ; 
My palate, to your taste may lie, 
  Yet please itself deliciously. 

Then let my sufferance be mine own : 
  Sufficeth it these reasons shown : 
Reason and love are ever known 
  To fight till both be overthrown.