Courtship, in this tiny poem, isn't a single moment of flirting but an ongoing state. The speaker and their beloved are "ever wooing," still courting each other, and the poem sums up that relationship as a list of pairings that seem to pull in different directions. Wine is pleasure, wormwood is bitterness. Water puts out fire. A picture is something you admire, while a price is what you pay. Book and song, heaven and bed: the lofty and the earthy sit side by side.
What the speaker seems to feel is a kind of delighted acceptance. Nothing is resolved or smoothed over. Sweet and bitter, mind and body, calm and heat all belong to the same love, and the speaker says "we two" as though these contrasts describe the couple themselves. The mood is compact, a little playful, and quietly affectionate. The short lines and the lack of explanation make it feel like a toast: a quick, honest list of everything that makes this relationship what it is.