I1.
 Love, though for this you riddle me with darts, 
.
 And drag me at your chariot till I die, -- 
.
 Oh, heavy prince! Oh, panderer of hearts! -- 
.
 Yet hear me tell how in their throats they lie 
.
 Who shout you mighty: thick about my hair, 
.
 Day in, day out, your ominous arrows purr, 
.
 Who still am free, unto no querulous care 
.
 A fool, and in no temple worshiper! 
.
 I, that have bared me to your quiver's fire, 
.

 Lifted my face into its puny rain, 
.

 Do wreathe you Impotent to Evoke Desire 
.

 As you are Powerless to Elicit Pain! 
.

 (Now will the god, for blasphemy so brave, 
.

 Punish me, surely, with the shaft I crave!) II2.
 I think I should have loved you presently, 
.
 And given in earnest words I flung in jest; 
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 And lifted honest eyes for you to see, 
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 And caught your hand against my cheek and breast; 
.
 And all my pretty follies flung aside 
.
 That won you to me, and beneath your gaze, 
.
 Naked of reticence and shorn of pride, 
.
 Spread like a chart my little wicked ways. 
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 I, that had been to you, had you remained, 
.

 But one more waking from a recurrent dream, 
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 Cherish no less the certain stakes I gained, 
.

 And walk your memory's halls, austere, supreme, 
.

 A ghost in marble of a girl you knew 
.

 Who would have loved you in a day or two. III3.
 Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow! 
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 Faithless am I save to love's self alone. 
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 Were you not lovely I would leave you now: 
.
 After the feet of beauty fly my own. 
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 Were you not still my hunger's rarest food, 
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 And water ever to my wildest thirst, 
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 I would desert you -- think not but I would! -- 
.
 And seek another as I sought you first. 
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 But you are mobile as the veering air, 
.

 And all your charms more changeful than the tide, 
.

 Wherefore to be inconstant is no care: 
.

 I have but to continue at your side. 
.

 So wanton, light and false, my love, are you, 
.

 I am most faithless when I most am true. IV4.
 I shall forget you presently, my dear, 
.
 So make the most of this, your little day, 
.
 Your little month, your little half a year, 
.
 Ere I forget, or die, or move away, 
.
 And we are done forever; by and by 
.
 I shall forget you, as I said, but now, 
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 If you entreat me with your loveliest lie 
.
 I will protest you with my favorite vow. 
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 I would indeed that love were longer-lived, 
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 And vows were not so brittle as they are, 
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 But so it is, and nature has contrived 
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 To struggle on without a break thus far, -- 
.

 Whether or not we find what we are seeking 
.

 Is idle, biologically speaking.