Classic Poem

III.

Stop the chafed boar, or play
 With the lion's paw, yet fear
 From the lover's side to tear
The idol of his soul away.

Though love enter by the sight
 To the heart, it doth not fly
 From the mind, when from the eye
The fair objects take their flight.

But since want provokes desire,
 When we lose what we before
 Have enjoy'd, as we want more,
So is love more set on fire.

Love doth with an hungry eye
 Glut on beauty; and you may
 Safer snatch the tiger's prey,
Than his vital food deny.

Yet though absence for a space
 Sharpen the keen appetite,
 Long continuance doth quite
All love's characters efface:

For the sense, not fed, denies
 Nourishment unto the mind,
 Which with expectation pined,
Love of a consumption dies.