Dear love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for fantasy
Therefore thou wak’d’st me wisely, yet
My dream thou brok’st not, but continued’st it
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories
Enter these arms, for since thou thought’st it best
Not to dream all my dream, let’s act the rest
Perchance as torches, which must ready be
Men light and put out, so thou deal’st with me
Thou cam’st to kindle, goest to come, then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die