Thee! entirely! I have loved:
So thy Sweetness on me wrought.
Yet thy Beauty never moved
Ill temptations in my thought.
But, still, did Beauty's ray
Sun-like, drive those fogs away.
Those, that Mistresses are named;
And for that, suspected be:
Shall not need to be ashamed,
If they pattern take, by Thee!
Neither shall their Servants fear,
Favours, openly to wear.
Thou, to no man favour deignest!
But what's fitting to bestow.
Neither Servants entertainest!
That can ever wanton grow.
For, the more they look on Thee,
Their Desires still better be!
This, thy Picture, therefore, show I
Naked unto every eye:
Yet no fear of rival know I,
Neither touch of jealousy.
For the more make love to Thee!
I, the more shall pleased be.
I am no Italian lover
That will mew thee in a gaol;
But thy Beauty I discover,
English-like, without a veil.
If thou mayest be won away:
Win and wear thee, he that may!
Yet in this, Thou may'st believe me!
(So indifferent, though I seem):
Death with tortures would not grieve me
More, than loss of thy esteem!
For if Virtue me forsake!
All a scorn of me will make.
Then, as I, on Thee relying,
Do no changing fear in Thee!
So, by my defects supplying;
From all changing, keep thou me!
That unmatched we may prove:
Thou, for Beauty! I, for Love!
Then, while their loves are forgotten,
Who to Pride and Lust were slaves;
And their Mistresses, quite rotten,
Lie, unthought on, in their graves:
King and Queens, in their despite,
Shall, to mind us, take delight.
