Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak? 
Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? 
Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke? 
Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find? 

No, no, where shadows do for bodies stand 
Thou may'st be abus'd if thy sight be dimmed 
Cold love is like to words written on sand 
Or to bubbles which on the water swim 
Wilt thou be thus abused still 
Seeing that she will right thee never? 
If thou cans't not o'ercome her will 
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever 

Wilt thou be thus abused still 
Seeing that she will right thee never? 
If thou cans't not o'ercome her will 
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever 

Was I so base, that I might not aspire 
Unto those high joys which she holds from me? 
As they are high, so high is my desire 
If she this deny, what can granted be? 

If she will yield to that which Reason is 
It is Reason's will that Love should be just 
Dear, make me happy still by granting this 
Or cut off delays if that I die must 
Better a thousand times to die 
Than for to live thus still tormented 
Dear, but remember it was I 
Who for thy sake did die contented 

Better a thousand times to die 
Than for to live thus still tormented 
Dear, but remember it was I 
Who for thy sake did die contented