- Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all;
- What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
- No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
- All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
- Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest,
- I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;
- But yet be blam’d, if thou thyself deceivest
- By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
- I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
- Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
- And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
- To bear love’s wrong, than hate’s known injury.
- Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
- Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.