Antipathies

LOVE is no product of the obedient will,
It hath its root in those deep sympathies
Mere ties of blood are powerless to control;
I love thee not because around thy heart
An Arctic nature built up the ice
Of thawless winter: vain it is to strive
Against the law of just antipathies:
The Tropic sunlight burns not at the Poles,
Nor blooms the lustrous foliage of the East
Among the rocky, storm-bound Hebrides;
To all my gods thou art antipodal,
Therefore, again, good sir! I love thee not.