The other two, slight air and purging fire, 
 Are both with thee, wherever I abide, 
 The first my thought, the other my desire. 
 These present-absent with swift motion slide. 
 
 For when these quicker elements are gone 
 In tender embassy of love to thee, 
 My life, being made of four, with two alone 
 Sinks down to death, oppress'd with melanch'ly 
 
 Until life's composition be recured 
 By those swift messengers return'd from thee, 
 Who ev'n but now come back again, assured 
 Of thy fair health, recounting it to me. 
 
 This told, I joy; but then no longer glad, 
 I send them back again and straight grow sad.  

            (Paraphrase)