<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357236" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ignoto</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I love thee not for sacred chastity.<br>Who loves for that? nor for thy sprightly wit:<br>I love thee not for thy sweet modesty,<br>Which makes thee in perfection's throne to sit.<br>I love thee not for thy enchanting eye,<br>Thy beauty, ravishing perfection:<br>I love thee not for that my soul doth dance,<br>And leap with pleasure when those lips of thine,<br>Give musical and graceful utterance,<br>To some (by thee made happy) poet's line.<br>I love thee not for voice or slender small,<br>But wilt thou know wherefore? Fair sweet, for all.<br> <br>'Faith, wench! I cannot court thy sprightly eyes,<br>With the base viol placed between my thighs:<br>I cannot lisp, nor to some fiddle sing,<br>Nor run upon a high stretching minikin.<br>I cannot whine in puling elegies.<br>Entombing Cupid with sad obsequies:<br>I am not fashioned for these amorous times,<br>To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes:<br>I cannot dally, caper, dance and sing,<br>Oiling my saint with supple sonneting:<br>I cannot cross my arms, or sigh 'Ah me,'<br>'Ah me forlorn!' egregious foppery!<br>I cannot buss thy fill, play with thy hair,<br>Swearing by Jove, 'Thou art most debonnaire!'<br>Not I, by cock! but I shall tell thee roundly,<br>Hark in thine ear, zounds I can ____ thee soundly.<br> <br>Sweet wench, I love thee; yet I will not sue,<br>Or show my love as musky courtiers do;<br>I'll not carouse a health to honour thee,<br>In this same bezzling drunken courtesy:<br>And when all's quaffed, eat up my bousinglass,<br>In glory that I am thy servile ass.<br>Nor will I wear a rotten Bourbon lock,<br>As some sworn peasant to a female mock.<br>Well-featured lass, thou know'st I love thee dear,<br>Yet for thy sake I will not bore mine ear,<br>To hang thy dirty silken shoe-tires there:<br>Not for thy love will I once gnash a brick,<br>Or some pied colours in my bonnet stick.<br>But by the chaps of hell, to do thee good,<br>I'll freely spend my thrice decocted blood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Christopher+Marlowe">Christopher Marlowe</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357236" data-title="Ignoto de Christopher Marlowe" data-description="I love thee not for sacred chastity. Who loves for that? nor for thy sprightly wit: I love thee not for thy sweet modesty, Which makes thee in perfection's throne to sit. I love thee not for thy enchanting eye, Thy beauty, ravishing perfection: I ..."></div> </div> </div>

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