Lovers

Never believe me if I love, 
Or know what 'tis or mean to prove; 
And yet in faith I lye, I do, 
And she's extremely handsom too: 
  She's fair, she's wondrous fair, 
  But I care not who knows it, 
  Ere I'le die for love, I'le fairly forgo it.

This heat of hope, or cold of fear, 
My foolish heart could never bear: 
One sigh imprison'd ruines more 
Then earthquakes have done heretofore: 
  She's fair, &c.

When I am hungry I do eat, 
And cut no fingers 'stead of meat; 
Nor with much gazing on her face 
Do ere rise hungry from the place: 
  She's fair, &c.

A gentle round fill'd to the brink 
To this and t'other Friend I drink; 
And when tis nam'd anothers health, 
I never make it hers by stealth: 
  She's fair, &c.

Black-Friars to me, and old Whitehall, 
Is even as much as is the fall 
Of fountains on a pathless grove, 
And nourishes as much my love: 
  She's fair, &c.

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Out upon it, I have loved
  Three whole days together!
And am like to love three more,
  If it prove fair weather.
 
Time shall moult away his wings
  Ere he shall discover
In the whole wide world again
  Such a constant lover.
 
But the spite on 't is, no praise
  Is due at all to me: 
Love with me had made no stays,
  Had it any been but she.
 
Had it any been but she,
  And that very face,
There had been at least ere this
  A dozen dozen in her place.

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Honest Lover whosoever,
If in all thy Love there ever
Was one wav'ring Thought, if thy Flame 
Were not still even, still the same: 
    Know this, 
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again, and love anew. 

If when she appears i'th' Room,
Thou do'st not quake, and art struck dumb,
And in striving this to cover
Dost not speak thy Words twice over,
    Know this,
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If fondly thou dost not mistake, 
And all Defects for Graces take; 
Perswad'st thyself that Jests are broken,
When she hath little or nothing spoken;
    Know this,
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again and love anew.

If when thou appear'st to be within, 
Thou lett'st not Men ask and ask again;
And when thou answer'st, if it be
To what was askt thee properly;
    Know this,
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If when thy Stomach calls to eat,
Thou cutt'st not Fingers 'stead of Meat,
And with much gazing on her Face
Dost not rise hungry from the Place,
    Know this,
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If by this thou dost discover 
That thou art no perfect Lover, 
And desiring to love true,
Thou dost begin to love anew;
    Know this,
    Thou lov'st amiss;
  And to love true,
  Thou must begin again, and love anew.