With better feeling farre than we.
Then Love prolong my suite, for thus
By losing sport, I sport doe win;
And that may vertue prove in us,
20Which ever yet hath beene a sinne.
My comming neare may spie some ill,
And now the world is given to scoffe;
To keepe my Love, (then) keepe me off,
And so I shall admire thee still.
25Say I have made a perfect choyce,