|
| Nor to the art of several eyes obeying, |
| But beauty with true worth securely weighing, |
| Which being found assembled in some one |
| Wee'l leave her ever, and love her alone. |
|
| * |
|
| He that cannot chuse but love, |
| And strives against it still, |
| Never shall my fancy move; |
| For he loves against his will; |
| Nor he which is all his own, |
| And cannot pleasure chuse, |
| When I am caught he can be gone, |
| And when he list refuse. |
| Nor he that loves none but fair, |
| For such by all are sought; |
| Nor he that can for foul ones care, |
| For his Judgment then is nought: |
| Nor he that hath wit, for he |
| Will make me his jest or slave |
| Nor a fool for when others, --- |
| He can neither ------- |
| Nor he that still his Mistress prays, |
| For she is thrall'd therefore: |
| Nor he that payes, not, for he says |
| Within she's worth no more. |
| Is there then no kind of men |
| Whom I may freely prove? |
| I will vent that humour then |
| In mine own self love.
|
[CW: The End] |