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LVI.
Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge
should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by
feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpen'd in his former
might:
So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of
love with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad interim
like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two
contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when
they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Else call it winter, which being full of care
Makes
summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.
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