My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more her I entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heart us not allayed by her heart-frozen cold, but that I burn much more in boiling sweat, and feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice, and ice, which is congealed with senseless cold, should kinda fire by wonderful device?
Such is the power of love in gentle mind, that it can alter all the course of kind.
-- Edmund Spenser