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| To M. C. B. |
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| Thy friend, whom thy deserts to thee enchaine, |
| Urg'd by this unexcusable occasion, |
| Thee and the Saint of his affection |
| Leaving behinde, doth of both wants complaine; |
| And let the love I beare to both sustaine |
| No blott nor maime by this division, |
| Strong is this love which ties our hearts in one, |
| And strong that love pursu'd with amorous paine; |
| But though besides thy selfe I leave behind |
| Heavens liberall and earths thrice-faire Sunne, |
| Going to where sterne winter aye doth wonne, |
| Yet, loves hot fires, which martyr my sad minde, |
| Doe send forth scalding sighes, which have the Art |
| To melt all Ice, but that which walls her heart.
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[CW: To] |