What if I never speed, shall I straight yield to despair, and still on sorrow feed that can no loss repair; or shall I change my love, for I find pow'r to depart, and in my reason prove I can command my heart? But if she will pity my desire, and my love requite, then ever shall she live my dear delight. Come, come, come, while I have a heart to desire thee. Come, come, come, for either I will love or admire thee. Oft have I dreamed of joy, yet I never felt the sweete, But tired with annoy, my griefs each other greete. Oft have I left my hope, as a wretch by fate forlorn, But Love aims at one scope, and lost will still returne. He that once loves with a true desire never can depart, For Cupid is the king of every heart. Come, come, come, while I have a heart to desire thee. Come, come, come, for either I will love or admire thee.