O what shall I do, or whither shall I turn me?
Shall I make unto her eyes? O no they'll burn me.
Shall I seal up my eyes and speak my part?
Then in a flood of tears I drown my heart.
For tears being stopped will swell for scope,
Though they o'erflow love, life, and hope.
By beauty's eye
I'll choose to die.
At thy feet I fall
Fair creature rich in beauty,
And for pity call,
O kill not love and duty.
Let thy smooth tongue fan on my sense thy breath
To stay thine eyes from burning me to death.
But if mercy be exiled
From a thing so fair compiled,
Then patiently
By thee I'll die.