Cause once I call’d thee a meer hanger on.
’Twas but in jest; for had I now my will,
I’de have thee for to hang about me still.
Now I may tax thee justly, for I see
That now th’art nothing else but levitie;
Nay when I had thee, scarcely did I know
Sometimes whether I had thee on or no.
Thou wert so thin, and light, that some have thought
Thee made of that same web Arachne wrought,
And say th’art useless now, unless men put