If love does rule the heart, then love's cruel,
Unhappy masters, whom do give to reap;
At play with players bound to loves' duel
But is love none if not to end in weep?
If all must die, then love's a mortal game
And subject then to laws of ash or dust,
Or give this king a lesser kingdom name
Diminished of the land that hearts entrust.
No! Love is life, to bittersweet the death
And followed blind despite the hewn of scythe
And uttered as it were the lasting breath
As tho' to love, is then to carry with.

Love is to live as tho' it weren't to die
But love there none, then one has lived to lie.