Pastiche

I. LOVE, oh, Love's a dainty sweeting, Wooing now, and now retreating; Brightest joy and blackest care, Swift as light, and light as air. II. Would you seize and fix and capture All his evanescent rapture? Bind him fast with golden curls, Fetter with a chain of pearls? III. Would you catch him in a net, Like a white moth prankt with jet? Clutch him, and his bloomy wing Turns a dead, discoloured thing! IV. Pluck him like a rosebud red, And he leaves a thorn instead; Let him go without a care, And he follows unaware. V. Love, oh Love's a dainty sweeting, Wooing now, and now retreating; Lightly come, and lightly gone, Lost when most securely won!