What it is to breathe and live without life; 
How to be pale with anguish, red with fear; 
T'have peace abroad, and nought within but strife; 
Wish to be present, and yet shun t'appear; 
How to be bold far off, and bashful near; 
How to think much, and have no words to speak; 
To crave redress, yet hold affliction dear; 
To have affection strong, a body weak; 
Never to find, and evermore to seek; 
And seek that which I dare not hope to find; 
T'affect this life, and yet this life disleek; 
Grateful t'another, to myself unkind: 
This cruel knowledge of these contraries, 
Delia, my heart hath learn'd out of those eyes.