Love is a babble
by Robert Jones
Love is a babble,
No man is able
To say ’tis this or ’tis that.
’Tis full of passions,
Of sundry fashions,
’Tis like I cannot tell what.
Love is a fellow,
Clad oft in yellow,
The canker-worm of the mind,
A privy mischief,
And such a sly thief,
No man knows which way to find.
Love’s fair i’ th’ cradle,
Foul in the sable,
’Tis either too cold or too hot.
An arrant liar,
Fed by desire,
It is, and yet is not.
Love is a wonder,
That’s here and yonder,
As common to one as to more.
A monstrous cheater,
Every man’s debtor,
Hang him, and so let him go.