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Loues Diet
To what a combersome vnweildinesse [265]
And burdenous Corpulence my loue had growne
But that I did, to make it lesse
And keepe it in proportion,
Giue it a dyet, made it feede vpon
That, wch Loue worst edures, discretion?
Aboue one Sigh a day I allowd him not
Of wch my fortunes and my faults had part
And if sometimes by stealth hee got
A Shee-sigh from my M.rs hart
And thought to feede on that, I let him see
T'was neyther very sound, nor ment to mee
If hee wrung from mee a teare, I brin'd it so
With Scorne or Shame, that him it nourishd not
If hee suckd hers, I let him knowe
T'was not a teare that hee had got
His drink was counterfeat as was his meate
ffor eyes that rowle towards all, weepe not, but sweate
What ever hee would dictate* I wrote that
But burnt my letters if shee wrote to mee
And that* that favour made him fat
I sayd, if any title bee
Conveyd by this, Ah what doth it avayle
To bee the forty'th name in an entayle?
Thus I reclaymd my buzzard Love to flie
At what, and when, and how, and where I choose
Now negligent of Sport I lye
And now as other falconers vse
I spring a Mistresse, sigh, sweare, write and weepe
And the game kill'd, or lost, goe talke or sleepe

[CW: I long]