Give me more love, or more disdain;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain;
The temperate affords me none:
Either extreme, of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danaë in that golden shower,
I swim in pleasure; if it prove,
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture hopes; and he’s possessed
Of heaven that’s but from hell released.
Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love or more disdain.
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