Thus Saith My Cloris Bright

Thus saith my Cloris bright

when we of Love sit down and talk together:

Beware of Love, dear: Love is a walking sprite,

and Love is this and that,

and O I wot not what,

and comes and goes again, I wot not whither.

No, no, these are but bugs to breed amazing,

for in her eyes I saw his torchlight blazing.