1.
Though I am young and cannot tell
Either what death or love is well,
Yet I have heard they both bear darts,
And both do aim at human hearts.
And then again I have been told
‖: Love wounds with heat, :‖ as death with cold;
So that I fear, they do but bring
‖: Extremes to touch :‖ and mean one thing.
2.
As in a ruin, we it call
One thing to be blown up or fall,
Or to our end, like way may have,
By a flash of lightning or a wave:
So love’s enflamèd shaft or brand
‖: May kill as soon :‖ as death’s cold hand,
Except love’s fires the virtue have
‖: To fright the frost :‖ out of the grave.