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