Love:
Weepe not, nor backward turne your beames, 
Fond eyes; sad sighes, locke in your breath, 
Lest on this winde, or in those streams, 
My griev'd soule flie, or saile to death, 
Fortune destroys me if I stay, 
Love kils me if I goe away; 
Since Love and Fortune both are blind, 
Come Reason and resolve my doubtfull mind.

Reason:

Fly, fly, and blind Fortune be thy guide, 
And gainst the blinder God rebell; 
Thy love sick heart shall not reside 
Where scorn and selfe-wild Error dwell, 
Where entrance unto truth is barr'd, 
Where love and faith finde no reward; 
For my just hand may sometimes move 
The wheele of Fortune, not the sphere of Love.

Chorus:

Fly, fly, and blind Fortune bee thy guide, 
And gainst the blinder God rebell, 
Thy love-sick heart shall not reside 
Where scorn and selfe-willd Error dwell.