Taking then that view outside–
And knowing Terra vast and wide–
Other, older fools have thought
Their own true loves comparing not
With any soul time soon forgot
And never said their vision lied.And knowing this, the wise deduce
That love should be its own excuse
And turn to common earth, and sow
Sweet meadow-seed, that there might blow
White flowers when the winds come low–
And let the mind itself seduce.And therefore, dear, I cannot cry
Your virtues to the empty sky–
For knowing that my eyes are bent
To find your wonders evident
Who then should trust my testament,
Who knows how love does love belie?