University of Virginia Library

To his Mistress on her scorne.

Resolve me dearest, vvhy two hearts in one
Should know the sin of separation.
Must the sweet custome of our oft stolne kisses,
Be lost, and we live empty of those blisses:
Or do the frowns of some old over seer
Nourish thy feare, or make thy love less steer?
Why did'st thou suffer me those sweets to steale,
Which but thine own, no tongue can e're reveale,
And prompt me to a daring to believe,
That my sad heart should finde no cause to grieve,
Yet now at last hast mockt my hope so far,
That I have not a cloud, though meant a star
Well, take thy tryumph, study but to be
True to thy selfe, as thou art false to me.
And thou shalt meet a conquest, yet when I
Have groan'd unto the world my Elegy,
And thy unjust disdaine, perhaps I shall
Obtaine this honour in my funeral.
Thy poysonous guilt mixt with thy purged breath,
May make thee wither with me unto death.
So shall I triumph in my ashes too,
In that my innocence hath conquer'd you,
And then my eye rejoyce, in that I have
Thy scorne, to be a mourner at my grave.