Madrigal 2. Verbal Love
VERBAL LOVE .
If love be made of words, as woods of trees,
Who more beloved than I?
If love be hot where true desire doth freeze,
Who more than she doth fry?
Are drones that make no honey counted bees?
Is running water dry?
Is that a gainful trade that has no fees?
He live, that dead doth lie?
What else but blind is he that nothing sees?
But deaf that hears no cry?
Such is her vowed love to me,
Yet must I think it true to be.
If love be made of words, as woods of trees,
Who more beloved than I?
If love be hot where true desire doth freeze,
Who more than she doth fry?
Are drones that make no honey counted bees?
Is running water dry?
Is that a gainful trade that has no fees?
He live, that dead doth lie?
What else but blind is he that nothing sees?
But deaf that hears no cry?
Such is her vowed love to me,
Yet must I think it true to be.
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