Her Outward Gesture Deceiving His Inward Hope

Smooth are thy looks, so is the deepest stream;
Soft are thy lips, so is the swallowing sand;
Fair is thy sight, but like unto a dream;
Sweet is thy promise, but it will not stand.
Smooth, soft, fair, sweet, to them that lightly touch;
Rough, hard, foul, sour, to them that take too much.

Thy looks so smooth have drawn away my sight:
Who would have thought that hooks could so be hid?
Thy lips so soft have fretted my delight,
Before I once suspected what they did.
Thy face so fair hath burnt me with desire;
Thy words so sweet were bellows for the fire.

And yet I love the looks that made me blind,
And like to kiss the lips that fret my life;
In heat of fire an ease of heat I find,
And greatest peace in midst of greatest strife:
That if my choice were now to make again,
I would not have this joy without this pain.