Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt, If

Who Is So Firm That Can't Be Seduced?

So Quick Bright Things Come To Confusion.​​​​​​

Things Base And Vile, Holding No Quantity, Love Can Transpose To Form And Dignity. Love Looks Not With The Eyes, But With The Mind, And Therefore Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind. Nor Hath Love's Mind Of Any Judgment Taste; Wings And No Eyes Figure Unheedy Haste.

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triumph Die, Like Fire And Powder, Which As They Kiss Consume. The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness And In The Taste Confounds The Appetite. Therefore Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.

Report Me And My Cause Aright.