I. <br />Tis true the beauteous Starre <br /> To which I first did bow <br />Burnt quicker, brighter far, <br /> Than that which leads me now; <br /> Which shines with more delight, <br /> For gazing on that light <br /> So long, neere lost my sight. <br /> <br /> II. <br />Through foul we follow faire, <br /> For had the world one face, <br />And earth been bright as ayre, <br /> We had knowne neither place. <br /> Indians smell not their neast; <br /> A Swisse or Finne tastes best <br /> The spices of the East. <br /> <br /> III. <br />So from the glorious Sunne <br /> Who to his height hath got, <br />With what delight we runne <br /> To some black cave or grot! <br /> And, heav'nly Sydney you <br /> Twice read, had rather view <br /> Some odde romance so new. <br /> <br /> IV. <br />The god, that constant keepes <br /> Unto his deities, <br />Is poore in joyes, and sleepes <br /> Imprison'd in the skies. <br /> This knew the wisest, who <br /> From Juno stole, below <br /> To love a bear or cow.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-paradox/
