I. Who joys in love? The Heart alone, to see

Robert Tofte (1561–1620)

WHO joys in love? The Heart alone, to see.

Who languisheth in love? The Heart alone.

Then is ’t a thing impossible for me

To joy or languish: since I Heart have none.

Withouten Heart! Then tell me, What am I?

Even bones and flesh united cunningly.

The Soul, where is ’t? Love that hath ta’en away:

My Body only resteth in his place.

Deprived of Soul and Heart, how live? I say,

I live, maintained by love, in this strange case.

O wonder strange, the Body live to see;

The Heart and Soul in other place to be.

Napoli.