Cento
The thirst from the soul doth rise
Next when I cast mine eyes and see
My hostess, nature, doth deny me
Gentle thoughts and calm my desires
Kindle never dying fires
I prize thy love more than whole
mines gold
If ever two were on, than surely we.
Then since we mortal lovers are, ask
not how long our love will last
How pure, how dear their dwelling
place
Their shadows with the magic hand of
chance
A well of love, spring of light
I love thee to the depth and the
breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.
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