Dear, if you change! I'll never choose again. Sweet, if you shrink! I'll never think of love. Fair, if you fail! I'll judge all beauty vain. Wise, if too weak! more wits I'll never prove. Dear! sweet! fair! wise! change, shrink, nor be not weak; And, on my faith! my faith shall never break. Earth with her flowers shall sooner heaven adorn; Heaven her bright stars, through earth's dim globe shall move. Fire, heat shall lose; and frosts, of flames be born; Air made to shine, as black as hell shall prove: Earth, heaven, fire, air, the world transformed shall view, Ere I prove false to faith, or strange to you! * * * * * Burst forth my tears! Assist my forward grief! And show what pain, imperious love provokes! Kind tender lambs, lament love's scant relief, And pine, since pensive care my freedom yokes. O pine to see me pine, my tender flocks! Sad pining Care, that never may have peace, At Beauty's gate, in hope of pity knocks; And Mercy sleeps while deep disdains increase; And Beauty, hope in her fair bosom yokes, O grieve to hear my grief, my tender flocks! Like to the winds, my sighs have wingèd been, Yet are my sighs and suits repaid with mocks; I plead, yet she repineth at my teen. O ruthless rigour! harder than the rocks! That both the shepherd kills, and his poor flocks. * * * * * O Crystal tears! like to the morning showers. And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast! And as the dews revive the drooping flowers, So let your drops of pity be addresst! To quicken up the thoughts of my desert. Which sleeps too sound; whilst I from her depart. Haste hapless sighs! and let your burning breath Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart! Whose frozen rigour, like forgetful Death, Feels never any touch of my desert. Yet sighs and tears to her, I sacrifice: Both, from a spotless heart, and patient eyes. * * * * * Think'st thou, then, by feigning Sleep, with a grand disdaining; Or, with thy crafty closing, Thy cruel eyes reposing; To drive me from thy sight! When sleep yields more delight, Such harmless beauty gracing: And while sleep feignèd is May not I steal a kiss Thy quiet arms embracing? O that thy sleep dissembled, Were to a trance resembled! Thy cruel eyes deceiving, Of lively sense bereaving: Then should my love requite Thy love's unkind despite, While fury triumphed boldly In beauty's sweet disgrace; And lived in deep embrace Of her that loved so coldly,