Sitting alone, Loue bids me goe and write;
Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay,
Boasting, that she doth still direct the way,
Or else Loue were vnable to indite:
Loue growing angry, vexed at the Spleene,
And scorning Reason’s maymed Argument,
Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to inuent,
Where she with Loue conuersing hath not beene;
Reason reproched with this coy Disdaine,
Despiteth Loue, and laugheth at her Folly;
And Loue contemning Reasons reason wholly,
Thought it in weight too light by many a Graine:
Reason put back, doth out of sight remoue,
And Loue alone picks reason out of loue.