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If thy unworthiness raised love in me, |
More worthy I to be beloved of thee. |
Love is too young to know what conscience is; |
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love? |
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, |
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove: |
For, thou betraying me, I do betray |
My nobler part to my gross body's treason; |
My soul doth tell my body that he may |
Triumph in love; flesh stays no father reason; |
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee |
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, |
He is contented thy poor drudge to be, |
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. |
No want of conscience hold it that I call |
Her love for whose dear love I rise and fall. |
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, |
But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing, |
In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn, |
In vowing new hate after new love bearing. |
But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee, |
When I break twenty? I am perjured most; |
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee |
And all my honest faith in thee is lost, |
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness, |
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy, |
And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness, |
Or made them swear against the thing they see; |
For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured eye, |
To swear against the truth so foul a lie! |
Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: |
A maid of Dian's this advantage found, |
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep |
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; |
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love |
A dateless lively heat, still to endure, |
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove |
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. |
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, |
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; |
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, |
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, |
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies |
Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes. |
The little Love-god lying once asleep |
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, |
Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep |
Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand |
The fairest votary took up that fire |
Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd; |
And so the general of hot desire |
Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd. |
This brand she quenched in a cool well by, |
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual, |
Growing a bath and healthful remedy |
For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall, |
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, |
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love. |
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