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Where can we finde two fitter hemispheares
Without sharpe North, without declining West?
What ever dies, was not mixt equally;
If our two loves be one, both thou and I
Love just alike in all, none of these loves can die.
Goe, and catch a falling starre,
Get with childe a mandrake root,
Tell me, where all past yeares are,
Or who cleft the Devils foot,
Teach me to heare Mermaids singing,
Or to keepe off envies stinging,
And finde
What winde
Serves to advance an honest minde.
If thou beest borne to strange fights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand dayes and nights,
Till age snow white haires on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And sweare
No where
Lives a woman true, and faire.
If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a Pilgrimage were sweet,

[CW: Yet]