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Take heede of hating mee, Or too mvch tryvmph in the Victorie; Nott that I shall bee myne owne officer And hate, with hate againe retaliate; But thou wilt loose the stile of conquerour, If I, thy conquest perish by this hate; Then least my beinge nothing, lessen thee, If thou hate mee, take heede of hating mee.| All kings, and all their fauorites All glorie of honours, Beauties, witts, The Sun it selfe, which makes tymes as they passe Is elder by a yeare now then itt was, When thou and I first one another sawe. All other things to their destruction drawe; Only our loue hath noe decaie This, no to morrow, hath, nor yesterdaie; Runninge itt neuer runs from vs awaie But truly keepes his first, last, everlastinge daie. Two graues mvst hide thine and my corse If one might, Death were no diuorse; Alas, as well as other Princes, wee Who Prince enough in one another bee, Must leaue att last in death, those, eies, and yeares Oft fed with true oathes, and with sweet salt teares. |
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