The little Love-god lying once asleep <br /> Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, <br /> Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep <br /> Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand <br /> The fairest votary took up that fire <br /> Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd; <br /> And so the general of hot desire <br /> Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd. <br /> This brand she quenched in a cool well by, <br /> Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual, <br /> Growing a bath and healthful remedy <br /> For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall, <br /> Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, <br /> Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-cliv/
