"Absence, the noble truce Of Cupids warre: Where though desires want use, They honoured are. Thou art the just protection, Of prodigall affection, Have thou the praise; When bankrupt Cupid braveth, Thy mines his credit saveth, With sweet delayes.Of wounds which presence makes With Beauties shot, Absence the anguish slakes, But healeth not: Absence records the Stories, Wherein Desire glories, Although she burne, She cherisheth the spirits Where Constancy inherits And Passions mourne.Absence, like dainty Clouds, On glorious-bright, Natures weake senses shrowds, From harming light. Absence maintaines the treasure Of pleasure unto pleasure, Sparing with praise; Absence doth nurse the fire, Which starves and feeds desire With sweet delayes.Presence to every part Of Beauty tyes, Where Wonder rules the heart There Pleasure dyes: Pleasures plagues minde and senses With modesties defences, Absence is free: Thoughts doe in absence venter On Cupids shadowed center, They winke and see.But Thoughts be not so brave, With absent joy; For you with that you have Your selfe destroy: The absence which you glory, Is that which makes you sory, And burne in vaine: For Thought is not the weapon, Wherewith thoughts-ease men cheapon, Absence is paine."