Out upon it, I have lov’d
Three whole days together;
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.
Time shall molt away his wings
Ere he shall discover
In such whole wide world again
Such a constant lover.
But the spite on’t is, no praise
Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stays
Had it any been but she.
Had it any been but she
And that very face,
There had been at least ere this
Leave a Reply