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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508132" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love's Servile Lot</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">LOVE, mistress is of many minds,<br> Yet few know whom they serve;<br>They reckon least how little Love<br> Their service doth deserve.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The will she robbeth from the wit,<br> The sense from reason's lore;<br>She is delightful in the rind,<br> Corrupted in the core.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She shroudeth vice in virtue's veil,<br> Pretending good in ill<br>She offereth joy, affordeth grief,<br> A kiss where she doth kill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A honey-shower rains from her lips,<br> Sweet lights shine in her face;<br>She hath the blush of virgin mind,<br> The mind of viper's race.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She makes thee seek, yet fear to find<br> To find, but not enjoy:<br>In many frowns some gliding smiles<br> She yields to more annoy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She woos thee to come near her fire,<br> Yet doth she draw it from thee;<br>Far off she makes thy heart to fry,<br> And yet to freeze within thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She letteth fall some luring baits<br> For fools to gather up;<br>Too sweet, too sour, to every taste<br> She tempereth her cup.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soft souls she binds in tender twist,<br> Small flies in spinner's web;<br>She sets afloat some luring streams,<br> But makes them soon to ebb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her watery eyes have burning force;<br> Her floods and flames conspire:<br>Tears kindle sparks, sobs fuel are,<br> And sighs do blow her fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">May never was the month of love,<br> For May is full of flowers;<br>But rather April, wet by kind,<br> For love is full of showers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like tyrant, cruel wounds she gives,<br> Like surgeon, salve she lends;<br>But salve and sore have equal force,<br> For death is both their ends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With soothing words enthralled souls<br> She chains in servile bands;<br>Her eye in silence hath a speech<br> Which eye best understands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her little sweet hath many sours,<br> Short hap immortal harms;<br>Her loving looks are murd'ring darts,<br> Her song bewitching charms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like winter rose and summer ice,<br> Her joys are still untimely;<br>Before her Hope, behind Remorse:<br> Fair first, in fine unseemly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Moods, passions, fancy's jealous fits<br> Attend upon her train:<br>She yieldeth rest without repose,<br> And heaven in hellish pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her house is Sloth, her door Deceit,<br> And slippery Hope her stairs;<br>Unbashful Boldness bids her guests,<br> And every vice repairs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her diet is of such delights<br> As please till they be past;<br>But then the poison kills the heart<br> That did entice the taste.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her sleep in sin doth end in wrath,<br> Remorse rings her awake;<br>Death calls her up, Shame drives her out,<br> Despairs her upshot make.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Plough not the seas, sow not the sands,<br> Leave off your idle pain;<br>Seek other mistress for your minds,<br> Love's service is in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Southwell">Robert Southwell</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=508132" data-title="Love's Servile Lot de Robert Southwell" data-description="LOVE, mistress is of many minds, Yet few know whom they serve; They reckon least how little Love Their service doth deserve. The will she robbeth from the wit, The sense from reason's lore; She is delightful in the rind, Corrupted in the core..."></div> </div> </div>
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