Love Lost

Take, o take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn!
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn;
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.

Hide, o hide those hills of snow,
With thy frozen bosom bears!
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears;
But first set my poor heart free,
Bound in those icy chains by thee.


William Shakespeare . 1564-1616