I cannot tell what this love may be <br />That cometh to all but not to me. <br />It cannot be kind as they'd imply, <br />Or why do these gentle ladies sigh? <br />It cannot be joy and rapture deep, <br />Or why do these gentle ladies weep? <br />It cannot be blissful, as 'tis said, <br />Or why are their eyes so wondrous red? <br /> <br />If love is a thorn, they show no wit <br />Who foolishly hug and foster it. <br />If love is a weed, how simple they <br />Who gather and gather it, day by day! <br />If love is a nettle that makes you smart, <br />Why do you wear it next your heart? <br />And if it be neither of these, say I, <br />Why do you sit and sob and sigh?<br /><br />William Schwenck Gilbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sans-souci/
