My dear mistress has a heart
Soft as those kind looks she gave me, 
When with love's resistless art,
And her eyes, she did enslave me.

But her constancy's so weak,
She's so wild, and apt to wander, 
That my jealous heart would break
Should we live one day asunder.

Melting joys about her move,
Killing pleasures, wounding blisses;
She can dress her eyes in love,
And her lips can [arm]1 with kisses.

Angels listen when she speaks;
She's my delight, all mankind's wonder;
But my jealous heart would break,
Should we live one day asunder.