You can`t take the sky from me.

Though I am young, and cannot tell


Though I am young, and cannot tell
    Either what Death or Love is well,

Yet I have heard they both bear darts,
    And both do aim at human hearts.

And then again, I have been told
    Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold;

So that I fear they do but bring
    Extremes to touch, and mean one thing.

As in a ruin we it call
    One thing to be blown up, or fall;

Or to our end like way may have
    By a flash of lightning, or a wave;

So Love`s inflamèd shaft or brand
    May kill as soon as Death`s cold hand;

Except Love`s fires the virtue have
    To fight the frost out of the grave.