HARK, Lovers! Hark, a strange miracle
Of one, deprived of heart; yet death doth 'scape!
Mine L. a flower gave me, which sweet did smell;
And for the same, away my life did take.
So that I only breathe through scent of flower;
And without heart, not without life, I live.
Then is not this, of might LOVE his power
A wonder strange? which he for sport doth give:
When that a flower sustaineth me alone
With life; who in my body, heart have none.