- O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,
- When thou art all the better part of me?
- What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
- And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?
- Even for this, let us divided live,
- And our dear love lose name of single one,
- That by this separation I may give
- That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone.
- O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
- Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
- To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
- Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
- And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
- By praising him here who doth hence remain.