Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong
Burneth soon to waste.
Still, I would not have thee cold,
Not too backward, or too bold;
Love that lasteth till tis old
Fadeth not in haste.
 ... 

 ... 

Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song,
Love that beareth right or wrong,
Joy or sorrow fell.
Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give or woo in vain,
So to thee, farewell.