The fact is that love is of two kinds, one which commands, and one which obeys. The two are quite distinct, and the passion to which the one gives rise is not the passion of the other.
The Metamorphosed Gypsies (excerpt)
by Ben Jonson
The fairy beam upon you,
The stars to glister on you;
A moon of light
In the noon of night,
Till the fire-drake hath o'ergone you.
The wheel of fortune guide you
The boy with the bow beside you;
Run aye in the way
Till the bird of day,
And the luckier lot betide you.
To the old, long life and treasure,
To the young, all health and pleasure;
To the fair, their face
With eternal grace,
And the foul to be lov'd at leisure.
To the witty, all clear mirrors,
To the foolish, their dark errors;
To the loving sprite,
A secure delight;
To the jealous, his own false terrors.