I love thee, and it is my love that speaks
Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?
By Heaven, I love thee better than myself
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
I love thee; none but thee, and thou deservest it
What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
I have pursued her, as love hath pursued me
Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
What? do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again, and feast upon her eyes