Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the herat or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply,
It is engendre'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed, and fancy dies,
In he candle where it lies.
Let us all ring Fancy's knell:
I'll begin it, - Ding, dong bell.
All, ding, dong, bell.
Jaisee Robert
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-by-william-shakespeare/
