Another.
KNOW, falsest man, as my love was
Greater than thine or thy desert,
My scorn shall likewise thine surpass:
And thus I tear thee from my heart.
Thou art so far my love below
That than my anger thou art less;
I neither love nor quarrel now,
But pity thy unworthiness.
Go join, before thou think to wed,
Thy heart and tongue in wedlock's knot;
Can peace be reaped from his bed
Who with himself accordeth not?
Go learn to weigh thy words upon
The balance of reality,
And having that perfection
Attained, come then and I'll scorn thee.
From Malone MS. 13. fol. 53.
To the Lady May.
YOUR smiles are not, as other women's be,
Only the drawing of the mouth awry;
For breasts and cheeks and forehead we may see,
Parts wanting motion, all stand smiling by:
Heaven hath no mouth, and yet is said to smile
After your style:
No more hath earth, yet that smiles too,
Just as you do.