Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak? Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke? Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find?
No, no, where shadows do for bodies stand Thou may'st be abus'd if thy sight be dimmed Cold love is like to words written on sand Or to bubbles which on the water swim Wilt thou be thus abused still Seeing that she will right thee never? If thou cans't not o'ercome her will Thy love will be thus fruitless ever
Wilt thou be thus abused still Seeing that she will right thee never? If thou cans't not o'ercome her will Thy love will be thus fruitless ever
Was I so base, that I might not aspire Unto those high joys which she holds from me? As they are high, so high is my desire If she this deny, what can granted be?
If she will yield to that which Reason is It is Reason's will that Love should be just Dear, make me happy still by granting this Or cut off delays if that I die must Better a thousand times to die Than for to live thus still tormented Dear, but remember it was I Who for thy sake did die contented
Better a thousand times to die Than for to live thus still tormented Dear, but remember it was I Who for thy sake did die contented