Too much noise, too much misery;
Fake beauty, false flattery;
Feigned tears, faint hearts;
Mock presents, dainty pasts.
Too much singing, too much song;
Far too empty, too wrong.
Too regular, too feminine;
Too much constancy seen.
Too insincere, too blind;
Too raucous to one’s mind.
Unhearing, unloving;
Unknowing, unseeing.
Inconsistent, ravaged, savage;
Not aware of youth and age.
Not knowing sins are fatal;
Not knowing worlds call chaos.
Not seeing lives are mortal;
Not seeing value, nor loss.
Too defined, too thin, too fair;
No curious touch nor flair;
Not jubilant, nor merciful;
Not knowing arts are plentiful.
Not voice, nor titles, nor vice;
Not pictures, nor pride, nor lies.
Too soothing, too tedious;
Too apparent, too obvious;
Too gracious, too grainless;
Not an emblem of happiness;
Not distinctive, nor charming;
Not distinguished, nor loving.
Too engaged, too dim, too forgetful;
Too separate, too disgraceful;
Too priceless, too sensuous;
No realness is to them, wondrous;
Too unbecoming, too wishful;
Too known, too gay, too sinful.
Too delighted, but evil to me;
Those boasting beauties of thee;
I am not part, nor flesh of thine;
I live with the voice in my mind;
I love in silence, in seclusion;
Only mirth salves my delusion;
Too sparkling, but mean still;
Unknowing towards those I feel;
I cannot be, nor shall I be;
I shall not place my soul in thee;
Thy voice remaineth loved still;
But to love thee, I never will.