Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak?

　　Shall I call her good when she proves unkind?

　　Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke?

　　Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find?

　　No, no, where shadows do for bodies stand

　　Thou may'st be abus'd if thy sight be dimmed

　　Cold love is like to words written on sand

　　Or to bubbles which on the water swim

　　Wilt thou be thus abused still

　　Seeing that she will right thee never?

　　If thou cans't not o'ercome her will

　　Thy love will be thus fruitless ever

　　Wilt thou be thus abused still

　　Seeing that she will right thee never?

　　If thou cans't not o'ercome her will

　　Thy love will be thus fruitless ever

　　Was I so base, that I might not aspire

　　Unto those high joys which she holds from me?

　　As they are high, so high is my desire

　　If she this deny, what can granted be?

　　If she will yield to that which Reason is

　　It is Reason's will that Love should be just

　　Dear, make me happy still by granting this

　　Or cut off delays if that I die must

　　Better a thousand times to die

　　Than for to live thus still tormented

　　Dear, but remember it was I

　　Who for thy sake did die contented

　　Better a thousand times to die

　　Than for to live thus still tormented

　　Dear, but remember it was I

　　Who for thy sake did die contented