SONG XI
[And pry'thee why (Florella) doest thou move]
1
And pry'thee why (Florella) doest thou move
My forward Heart, not to proceed in Love?
Alas! it cannot be
My Love to thee
Divinest she,
Burnes with a fire
Cannot breath highe.
Nor shall expire:
For should I once this high blown flame let fal,
My warned Heart,
Being taught the Smart
Would learn the Art
Never to love at all
2
Perhaps 'twas pitty mov'd thee to Complain,
And thou might think, so, to redress my pain,
But oh! good faith not I!
I'le never try
That Remedy;
But will Endure,
Love's Calenture,
And not thy Cure:
For know; my Love soars with so high a wing,
'Tis pride in me,
Rather to be
A slave to thee
Then be Another's King.
3
Then chide not (dearest Fair) my passions heat?
Souldiers in Love, must never make retreat:
What though the fates decree,
Thou must not be,
A mate for me:
And Love conspire,
To cheat desire,
With Single fire.
Yet let me burn and dye; that I may see,
What Joyes they prove,
Ith' Elyzian Grove,
That Over-love.
And dye for such, as thee.