Prithee my heart
To have and to hold: your –
Loves’ gesture gaze, upon my deep-sunken eye
For your beauty’s rose that never die
Which my heart saw even Cupid couldn’t deny.
Change thy thoughts of lovelorn taste
For my mind won’t change my heart’s pace
Nor loose possession of that fair thou hath;
The master – spice of my emotions, or
Shall your hate be more fairer than my gentle love?