When wert thou born, desire?
In pomp and prime of May.
By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot?
By good conceit, men say.
Tell me, who was thy nurse?
Fresh youth in sugared joy.
What was thy meat and daily food?
Sad sighs with great annoy.
What hadst thou then to drink?
Unfeignèd lovers' tears.
What cradle wert thou rockèd in?
In hope devoid of fears.
What brought thee then asleep?
Sweet speech, that liked me best.
And where is now thy dwelling-place?
In gentle hearts I rest.
Doth company displease?
It doth in many a one.
Where would desire then choose to be?
He likes to muse alone.
What feedeth most your sight?
To gaze on favour still.
What findest thou most to be thy foe?
Disdain of my goodwill.
Will ever age or death
Bring thee unto decay?
No, no, desire both lives and dies
Ten thousand times a day.