Against Fruition (2)

Fie upon hearts that burn with mutual fire!I hate two minds that breathe but one desire.Were I to curse th' unhallow'd sort of men,I'd wish them to love, and be lov'd again.

Love's a camelion, that lives on mere air,5And surfeits when it comes to grosser fare:'Tis petty jealousies, and little fears,Hopes join'd with doubts, and joys with April tears,That crowns our love with pleasures: these are goneWhen once we come to full fruition,10Like waking in a morning, when all nightOur fancy hath been fed with true delight.O, what a stroke 'twould be! sure I should die,Should I but hear my mistress once say, ay.That monster expectation feeds too high15For any women e'er to satisfy;And no brave spirit ever car'd for thatWhich in down beds with ease he could come at.She's but an honest whore that yields, althoughShe be as cold as ice, as pure as snow:20He that enjoys her hath no more to sayBut 'Keep us fasting, if you'll have us pray.'Then, fairest mistress, hold the power you have,By still denying what we still do crave;In keeping us in hopes strange things to see25That never were, nor are, nor e'er shall be.