Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness

And on a love-book pray for my success

Till I have found each letter in the letter

Whereon this month I have been hammering.

Repair me with thy presence.

Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.

Not being tried and tutored in the world

And partly seeing you are beautified

How could he see his way to seek out you?

Hope is a lover’s staff, walk hence with that.

I cannot leave to love, and yet I do.

I am impatient of my tarriance.

Didst thou but know the inly touch of love

Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow—

A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears

Trenched with ice, which in an hour’s heat

Dissolves to water and doth lose his

Plural faith, which is too much by one

In a disguise of love. A heart as full of sorrows

As the sea of sands, makes sweet music

With th’enammelled stones. You would have them play

But one thing? I would always have one play

But one thing. Unwind her love from him.

Your slander never can endamage him

If I be not by her fair influence

Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive.