Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek; she pin'd in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
For he was more than over shoes in love.
Love is your master, for he masters you;
And he that is so yoked by a fool,
Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
And writers say, as the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime.
How wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod.
O, how this spring of love resembleth
Th' uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away!</poem>
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Except I be by Sylvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale.
Love keeps his revels where there are but twain.
What 'tis to love? how want of love tormenteth?
| author =
| work = Venus and Adonis.
| place = L. 202.
| topic = Love
| page = 480
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num = 14
| text = When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your soul. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? . . . When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? Was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough?
—
| author = Bernard Shaw
| work = Getting Married.
| topic = Love
| page = 480
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num = 15
| text = The fickleness of the woman I love is only equalled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me.
| author = Bernard Shaw
| work = The Philanderer. Act II.
| topic = Love
| page = 480
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num = 16
| text = <poem>Love's Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.
Shelley—Hellas. L. 321.
Yet all love is sweet
Given or returned. Common as light is love,
And its familiar voice wearies not ever
They who inspire it most are fortunate,
As I am now: but those who feel it most
Are happier still after long sufferings
As I shall soon become.
Shelley—Prometheus Unbound. Act II. Sc. 5.
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange, one for the other given;
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
Sir Phtt.tp Sidney—My True Love Hath my
Heart.
They love indeed who quake to say they love.
Sir Phtt.tp Sidney—Astrophel and Stella.
UV.
Priests, altars, victims, swam before my
sight.
Edmund Smith—PhcedraandHippolytus. Act
I. Sc. 1.
| seealso = (See also Pope)
| topic = Love
| page = 480
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num = 21
| text = <poem>Thy fatal shafts unerring move;
I bow before thine altar, Love!
Smollett—Roderick Random. Ch. XL. St. L
Love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave.
Song of Solomon. VIII. 6.
any waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.
Song of Solomon. VIII. 7.
