Praise blindness eyes, for seeing is deceit
Be dumb vain tongue, words are but flattering winds.
Break heart and bleed for there is no receipt
To purge inconstancy from most men's minds

And if tine ears false heralds to thy heart.
Convey into thy head hopes to obtain.
Then tell thy hear ring though art deaf by art,
Now love is art that wanted to be plain.

Now none is bold except they see his brains
Affection is not known until one be dead
Rewards for love are labours for his pains.
Love's quiver made of gold his shafts of lead.

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