Thomas Campion (1567–1620)

TURN all thy thoughts to eyes,

Turn all thy hairs to ears,

Change all thy friends to spies

And all thy joys to fears:

True love will yet be free

In spite of jealousy.

Turn darkness into day,

Conjectures into truth,

Believe what th’ envious say,

Let age interpret youth:

True love will yet be free

In spite of jealousy.

Wrest every word and look,

Rack every hidden thought,

Or fish with golden hook;

True love cannot be caught:

For that will still be free

In spite of jealousy.