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.