Classic Poem

Or love mee lesse, or love mee more
and play not with my liberty,
Either take all, or all restore,
bind mee at least, or set mee free,
Let mee some nobler torture finde
than of a doubtfull wavering mynd,
Take all my peace, but you betray
myne honour too this cruell way.

Tis true that I have nurst before
that hope of which I now complaine,
And having little sought no more,
fearing to meet with your disdaine:
The sparks of favour you did give,
I gently blew to make them live:
And yet have gaind by all this care
nOrest in hope, nor in despaire.

I see you weare that pittying smile
which you have still vouchsaf't my smart,
Content thus cheapely to beguile
and entertaine an harmelesse heart:
But I no longer can give way
to hope, which doeth so little pay,
And yet I dare no freedome owe
whilst you are kind, though but in shew.

Then give me more, or give me lesse,
do not disdaine a mutuall sense,
Or your unpittying beauties dresse
in their owne free indifference;
But shew not a severer eye
sooner to give mee liberty,
For I shall love the very scorne
which for my sake you do put on.