AT her fair hands, how have I grace intreated!
With prayers oft repeated!
Yet still my love is thwarted.

Heart, let her go! for She'll not be converted! Say, Shall She go?

O, no, no, no, no, no!

She is most fair; though She be marble-hearted!

How often have my sighs declared mine anguish ! Wherein I daily languish;

Yet doth She still procure it.

Heart, let her go! for I can not endure it!
Say, Shall She go?

O, no, no, no, no, no!

She gave the wound; and She alone must cure it!

The trickling tears, that down my cheeks have flowed,
My love have often showed;
Yet still unkind I prove her!

Heart, let her go! for nought I do can move her!
Say, Shall She go?

O, no, no, no, no, no!

Though me She hates; I can not choose but love her!

But shall I still a true affection owe her;

Which prayers, sighs, tears, do shew her:
And shall She still disdain me?

Heart, let her go! if they no grace can gain me. Say, Shall She go?

no, no, no!

O, no, no, She made me hers; and hers She will retain me!

But if the love that hath, and still doth, burn me, No love, at length, return me;

Out of my thoughts I'll set her!

Heart, let her go! O, heart, I pray thee, let her!
Say, Shall She go?
O, no, no, no, no, no!

Fixed in the heart; how can the heart forget her?

But if I weep and sigh, and often wail me,
Till tears, sighs, prayers, fail me;
Shall yet my love persèver?

Heart, let her go! if She will right thee never.
Say, Shall She go?

O, no, no, no, no, no!

Tears, sighs, prayers, fail; but true love lasteth ever!

REASON and Love, lately, at strife contended,

Whose right it was to have my mind's protection? Reason, on his side, Nature's will pretended;

Love's title was, my Mistress' rare perfection. Of Power, to end this strife, each makes election;

Reason's pretence discoursive Thoughts defended: But Love soon brought those Thoughts into subjection

By Beauty's troops; which on my Saint depended. Yet since to rule the mind was Reason's duty,

On this condition, it by Love was rendered: 'That endless praise by Reason should be tendered, As a due tribute to her conquering beauty!' Reason was pleased withal; and to Love's royalty, He pledged my heart, as hostage for his loyalty.

FAIN Would I change that note,

To which fond Love hath charmed me;

Long, long, to sing by rote,

Fancying that, that harmed me:
Yet when this thought doth come,
'Love is the perfect sum
Of all delight!'

I have no other choice
Either for pen, or voice,
To sing, or write!

O, Love! they wrong thee much,
That say, 'Thy sweet is bitter!'
When thy ripe fruit is such,

As nothing can be sweeter!
Fair House of Joy and Bliss,
Where truest pleasure is;

I do adore thee!

I know thee, what thou art!
I serve thee with my heart;
And fall before thee!

My Love bound me, with a kiss,
That I should no longer stay.
When I felt so sweet a bliss,

I had less power to part away.

Alas! that women do not know,
Kisses make men loth to go!

Yes! She knows it but too well!
For I heard, when VENUS' dove,
In her ear, did softly tell,

'That Kisses were the Seals of Love!'
O, muse not then, though it be so,
Kisses make men loth to go!

Wherefore did She thus inflame
My desires, heat my blood,
Instantly to quench the same;

And starve whom She had given food?
I, I,[Aye! Aye!] the common-sense can show
Kisses make men loth to go!

Had She bid me go at first;

It would ne'er have grieved my heart! Hope delayed had been the worst:

But, ah! to kiss; and then, to part!

How deep it struck, speak Gods! You know
Kisses make men loth to go!

FAREWELL, dear Love! since thou wilt needs be
Mine eyes do shew my life is almost done.
Nay, I will never die!
So long as I can spy.
There be many mo!
Though that She do go!

There be many mo, I fear not!

Why, then, let her go! I care not! . . .

gone.

Ten thousand times, farewell! Yet, stay a while!
Sweet! kiss me once! Sweet kisses, time beguile!
I have no power to move.
How now! Am I in love?
Wilt thou needs be gone?
Go, then! All is one!

Wilt thou needs be gone? O, hie thee!
Nay! stay; and do no more deny me!

Once more, farewell! I see, 'loth to depart'
Bids oft 'Adieu!' to her, that holds my heart!
But seeing I must lose

Thy love, which I did choose;
Go thy ways, for me!

Since it may not be.

Go thy ways, for me! but, Whither?
Go, O, but where I may come thither!

What shall I do? My Love is now departed!
She is as fair, as She is cruel-hearted!

She would not be entreated,
With prayers oft repeated!
If She come no more;
Shall I die therefore?

If She come no more; what care I!
Faith! let her go! or come! or tarry!