Song

• Sweetest love, I do not go,
• For weariness of thee,
• Nor in hope the world can show
• A fitter love for me ;
• But since that I
• At the last must part, 'tis best,
• Thus to use myself in jest
• By feigned deaths to die.
•  
• Yesternight the sun went hence,
• And yet is here to-day;
• He hath no desire nor sense,
• Nor half so short a way;
• Then fear not me,
• But believe that I shall make
• Speedier journeys, since I take
• More wings and spurs than he.
•  
• O how feeble is man's power,
• That if good fortune fall,
• Cannot add another hour,
• Nor a lost hour recall ;
• But come bad chance,
• And we join to it our strength,
• And we teach it art and length,
• Itself o'er us to advance.
•  
• When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st not wind,
• But sigh'st my soul away;
• When thou weep'st, unkindly kind,
• My life's blood doth decay.
• It cannot be
• That thou lovest me as thou say'st,
• If in thine my life thou waste,
• That art the best of me.
•  
• Let not thy divining heart
• Forethink me any ill;
• Destiny may take thy part,
• And may thy fears fulfil.
• But think that we
• Are but turn'd aside to sleep.
• They who one another keep
• Alive, ne'er parted be.