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If thou findst one, let mee know, |
Such a Pilgrimage were sweet, |
Yet doe not, I would not goe, |
Though at next doore wee might meet, |
Though shee were true, when you met her, |
And last, till you write your letter, |
Yet shee |
Will bee |
False, ere I come, to two, or three. |
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Womans constancy.* |
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Now thou hast lov'd me one whole day, |
To morrow when thou leav'st, what wilt thou say? |
Wilt thou then Antedate some new made vow? |
Or say that now |
We are not just those persons, which we were? |
Or, that oathes made in reverentiall feare |
Of Love, and his wrath, any may forsweare? |
Or, as true deaths, true maryages untie, |
So lovers contracts, images of those, |
Binde but till sleep, deaths image, them unloose? |
Or, your owne end to Justifie, |
For having purpos'd change, and falsehood; you |
Can have no way but falsehood to be true? |
Vaine lunatique, against these scapes I could
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[CW: Dispute,] |