When Shall The Fair

When shall the fair
Hair on the thin scalp spilled
(Wherein the summer lies distilled)
Suffice? A stare
Is more than eyes;
A smile appears on lips
(Like sunrise gleam on spars of ships)
But is more, and dies.
Love so is
Despair, being spirit too.
Hair and eyes in love can do
Lips can kiss;
Five senses build
A pentagon of pleasure:
But mind, exceeding common measure,
Is unfulfilled.