You 1

To see you is to see my defense crumble,
To not see you is but to see you more.
My mind, addicted, hails where I must tumble
And breaks mine eye by seeing as before.

The waxing moon seems merciful to me,
Its constant changes whispering of peace.
Where travels down this art of mystery?
To teach my mind and eye to better please!

And lying will not stop my walking fit
And sitting will not rest at ease this mind
Celestial motions more a constant grit
Than this heart put in orbit so unkind.

No apt escape from love's calamity
But fall to void or to your gravity.