A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

103. UPON LOVE

     I held Love's head while it did ache;
     But so it chanced to be,
     The cruel pain did his forsake,
     And forthwith came to me.

     Ai me!  how shall my grief be still'd?
     Or where else shall we find
     One like to me, who must be kill'd
     For being too-too-kind?