LVI

    Sweet love, renew thy force； be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd, To-morrow sharpened in his former might： So, love, be thou, although to-day thou fill Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink¹ with fulness, To-morrow see again, and do not kill The spirit of love, with a perpetual dulness. Let this sad interim² like the ocean be Which parts the shore, where two contracted new Come daily to the banks, that when they see Return of love, more blest may be the view； Or call it winter, which being full of care, Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.