If her disdaine least change in you can move,
you doe not love,
For whilst your hopes give fuell to the fire,
you sell desire.
Love is not love, but given free, 5
And so is mine, so should yours bee.
Her heart that melts at others moane,
to mine is stone.
Her eyes that weepe a strangers hurt to see,
joy to wound mee: 10
Yet I so much affect each part,
As (caus'd by them) I love my smart.
Say her disdaynings justly must be grac't
with name of chaste.
And that shee frownes least longing should exceed, 15
and raging breed;
Soe can her rigor ne'er offend
Unlesse selfe-love seeke private end.