Old poets that in Cupid's hand

Old poets, that in Cupid's hand

Put weapons first, did but allow

One bow, two shafts, a chain, a brand.

These then were all his arms; but now

He finds in Celia's either brow,

In both her eyes, in all her parts,

Two bows, ten thousand fetters, flames, and darts.

Tell me the number of her hairs,

Count all the glances of her eyes,

The graces and the careless snares

That in her looser beauty lies,

Sweet smiles, and sweeter airs that fly

Like lightning from her lips; and then

Tell me how many ways love murders men.