Love's fire

Soul that weepest sore, how is Love's wound

that was allayed in thee

inflaming through thy heart again!

nay, nay, for God's sake, nay for God's sake,

O infatuate, stir not the fire

that flickers low among the ashes.

For soon, O oblivious of thy pains,

so sure as Love catches thee in flight,

again he will torture his found runaway.