Art thou, my muse, an ever-changing moon,
Whose gentle beauty and courageous soul
Has blinded all my judgement, and will soon
Enslave my reason, and my heart control?
These silken threads, these bonds which do us join,
May \'ere long break apart, leave us forlorn,
Alone, abandoned, the debasèd coin
Of amorous delights, and love foresworn.
Know then that half of you is lost in me:
Your eyes, your lips, your blushing cheek, are all
In me confounded, in my solemn breast
Confinèd, prisoners to my passion, blessed
And cursed with love\'s irresistible call,
Subject to the moon, and all her beauty.