Loves Exchange

Love, any devill else but you,

Would for a given Soule give something too.

At Court your fellowes every day,

Give th'art of Riming, Huntsmanship, or Play,

For them which were their owne before;　

Onely I have nothing which gave more,

But am, alas, by being lowly, lower.

I aske no dispensation now

To falsifie a teare, or sigh, or vow,

I do not sue from thee to draw　

A non obstante on natures law,

These are prerogatives, they inhere

In thee and thine; none should forsweare

Except that hee Loves minion were.

Give mee thy weaknesse, make mee blinde,　

Both wayes, as thou and thine, in eies and minde;

Love, let me never know that this

Is love, or, that love childish is.

Let me not know that others know

That she knowes my paines, least that so　

A tender shame make me mine owne new woe.

If thou give nothing, yet thou'art just,

Because I would not thy first motions trust;

Small townes which stand stiffe, till great shot

Enforce them, by warres law condition not.　

Such in loves warfare is my case,

I may not article for grace,

Having put Love at last to shew this face.

This face, by which he could command

And change the Idolatrie of any land,　

This face, which wheresoe'r it comes,

Can call vow'd men from cloisters, dead from tombes,

And melt both Poles at once, and store

Deserts with cities, and make more

Mynes in the earth, then Quarries were before.　

For, this, Love is enrag'd with mee,

Yet kills not. If I must example bee

To future Rebells; If th'unborne

Must learne, by my being cut up, and torne:

Kill, and dissect me, Love; for this　

Torture against thine owne end is,

Rack't carcasses make ill Anatomies.