If you a wrinkle on the sea have been,
Ambitious, rise till it a wave hath been,
And marked that wave ascending high,
Dash down again, and in an instant die,
Give in to death, beginning to a new
Till wrapt within themselves we loose their view,
So in love's growth, a spark begets a flame,
And that, burnt out, returns to ash again.
These the degrees and ends of lovers' bliss,
From small to great, then nothing is.