If love be truly blind, then surely I be a blind fool wanting of sight.
He who carries on in such a plight will surely stumble and discover many a strife.
To what does a man seek in thee? A wanton minx or a fruit bearing tree?
Crooked ways ensnare, beauty is vain, conceit is destructive on both accounts.
But hope in the invisible invigorates, casting out all fears and doubts.
The blind need only realize, that which edifies need not be gleaned with their very own eyes.