From Thomas Campion’s Third Book Of Airs (circ. 1613).
Were my heart as some men’s are, thy errors would not move me,
Foes sometimes befriend us more, our blacker deeds objecting,
Than th’ obsequious bosom-guest with false respect affecting;
Friendship is the Glass of Truth, our hidden stains detecting.
While I use of eyes enjoy and inward light of reason,
Thy observer will I be and censor, but in season;
Hidden mischief to conceal in state and love is treason.
What hap had I to marry a shrow!
From morn to even her tongue ne’er lies,
Sometimes she brawls, sometimes she cries,
Yet I can scarce keep her talents[23] from mine eyes.
If I go abroad and late come in,—
“Sir knave,” saith she, “Where have you been?”
And do I well or ill she claps me on the skin.
[23] Old form of “talons.”
From Orlando Gibbons’ First Set Of Madrigals, 1612. (Ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh.)