1.

 N OW sure, within this twelve month past,
I'have lov'd at least some twenty years or more:
 The account of Love runs much more fast
 Than that, with which our Life does score:
So though my Life be short , yet I may prove
 The great Methusalem of Love .

2.

 Not that Loves Hours or Minutes are
Shorter than those our Being 's measur'ed by:
 But they're more close compacted far,
 And so in lesser room do lye.
Thin airy things extend themselves in space,
 Things solid take up little place.

3.

 Yet Love , alas, and Life in Me,
Are not two several things, but purely one,
 At once how can there in it be
 A double different Motion ?
O yes, there may: for so the self same Sun ,
 At once does slow and swiftly run.

4.

 Swiftly his daily journey'he goes,
But treads his Annual with a statelier pace,
 And does three hundred Rounds enclose
 Within one yearly Circles space.
At once with double course in the same Sphære ,
 He runs the Day , and Walks the year .

5.

 When Soul does to my self refer,
'Tis then my Life , and does but slowly move;
 But when it does relate to her,
 It swiftly flies, and then is Love .
Love's my Diurnal course, divided right
 'Twixt Hope and Fear , my Day and Night .