To My Mistris, I Burning in Love
Morten Lauridsen, Thomas Carew
I burn; and cruel you, in vain
Hope to quench me with disdain;
If from your eyes those sparkles came
That have kindled all this flame
What boots it me, though now you shroud
Those fierce comets in a cloud?
Since all the flames that I have felt
Could your snow yet never melt;
Nor can your snow, though you should take
Alps into your bosom, slake
The heat of my enamour'd heart
But, with wonder, learn Love's art:
No seas of ice can cool desire
Equal flames must quench Love's fire
Then, think not that my heat can die
Till you burn as well as I