Well-shadowed landskip, fare-ye-well:

How I have loved you, none can tell,

At least so well

As he that now hates more

Then e’er he loved before.

But my dear nothings, take your leave;

No longer must you me deceive,

Since I perceive

All the deceit, and know

Whence the mistake did grow.

As he whose quicker eye doth trace

A false star shot to a marked place

Does run apace,

And thinking it to catch

A jelly up does snatch,

So our dull souls, tasting delight

Far off, by sense, and appetite,

Think that is right

And real good, when yet

’Tis but the counterfeit.

Oh, how I glory now that I

Have made this new discovery!

Each wanton eye

Enflamed before; no more

Will I increase that score.

If I gaze now, ’tis but to see

What manner of death’s-head ’twill be,

When it is free

From that fresh upper skin,

The gazer’s joy, and sin.

The gum and glistening which with art

And studied method in each part

Hangs down the hair —‘t

Looks just as if that day

Snails there had crawled the hay.

The locks that curled o’er each ear be

Hang like two master-worms to me,

That (as we see)

Have tasted to the rest

Two holes, where they like ’t best.

A quick corse methinks I spy

In every woman; and mine eye,

At passing by,

Checks, and is troubled, just

As if it rose from dust.

They mortify not heighten me;

These of my sins the glasses be:

And here I see

How I have loved before.

And so I love no more.