Give me more love, or more disdain;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain,
The temperate affords me none;
Either extreme, of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danae in that golden shower,
I swim in pleasure; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture hopes; and he's possessed
Of heaven, that's but from hell released.
Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love, or more disdain.
More verses by Thomas Carew
- Song: Perswasions To Enjoy
- Epitaph On The Late Mary Villiers
- Know, Celia, Since Thou Art So Proud
- Epitaph For Maria Wentworth
- A Song: When June Is Past, The Fading Rose