- But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
- For term of life thou art assured mine;
- And life no longer than thy love will stay,
- For it depends upon that love of thine.
- Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
- When in the least of them my life hath end.
- I see a better state to me belongs
- Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
- Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
- Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
- O! what a happy title do I find,
- Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
- But what’s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
- Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.