Never so fair a face was seen
Than of the lady risen from seafoam,
Who often guides cupid’s finest bow
Patron of all whose love doth roam.

Many a men fall to her wiles
And women seek her truth,
Everlasting through their longing
Though love is often uncouth,

Seen even in the whitest dove
Or through the reddest rose,
Or in the poems lovers write
Or through a mortal’s prose.

A cruel mistress nonetheless
Makes heartbreak bleed bright red,
For any who dare turn from her
Will learn to love instead.