Sonnet 151, by NY Shakespeare Exchange

Love is too young to know what conscience is,
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,
But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
     No want of conscience hold it that I call
     Her love, for whose dear love I rise and fall.

Sonnet 151, from The Sonnet Project, by the New York Shakespeare Exchange.

This is the classic Romantic battle between the mind (conscience) and the heart (love) and between the soul and the body.  Shakespeare weaves it all in 14 lines of poetry, as Richard Price, seemingly longing for her from afar, finally gives in to his desire for... uhm... the Coney Island hot dog.  There is comic relief, after all, in the midst of high Romanticism.