Thou art not fair for all thy red and white,
For all those rosy ornaments in thee,--
Thou art not sweet, though made of mere delight,
Nor fair, nor sweet, unless thou pity me.
I will not soothe thy fancies; thou shalt prove
that beauty is no beauty without love.
Yet love not me, nor seek thou to allure
My thoughts with beauty, were it more divine;
Thy smiles and kisses I cannot endure,
I'll not be wrapp'd up in those arms of thine:
Now show it, if thou be a woman right--
Embrace and kiss and love me in despite.
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