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John Dryden - Ah, how sweet it is to love!
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AH, how sweet it is to love! 
   Ah, how gay is young Desire! 
And what pleasing pains we prove 
   When we first approach Love`s fire! 
Pains of love be sweeter far 
Than all other pleasures are. 

Sighs which are from lovers blown 
   Do but gently heave the heart: 
Ev`n the tears they shed alone 
   Cure, like trickling balm, their smart: 
Lovers, when they lose their breath, 
Bleed away in easy death. 

Love and Time with reverence use, 
   Treat them like a parting friend; 
Nor the golden gifts refuse 
   Which in youth sincere they send: 
For each year their price is more, 
And they less simple than before. 

Love, like spring-tides full and high, 
   Swells in every youthful vein; 
But each tide does less supply, 
   Till they quite shrink in again: 
If a flow in age appear, 
`Tis but rain, and runs not clear.
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