How long shall I a Martyr be, 
To love and womans cruelty? 
Or why doth sullen Fate confine 
My heart to one that is not mine: 
Had I ere lov'd as others doe, 
But only for an houre or two 
Then there had store of reason bin, 
Why I should suffer for my sin. 

But love thou knowest with what a flame
I have ador'd my mistris name:
How I neer offered other fires,
But such as rose from chaste desires:
Nor have I ere prophaned thy shrine
With an inconstant fickle minde;
Yet thou combining with my Fate,
Hath forc't my love and her to hate.

O Love if her supremacy
Have not a greater power then thee
For pities sake then once be kinde,
And throw a dart to change her minde;
Thy deity we shall suspect,
If our reward must be neglect.
Then make her love or let me bee
Inspir'd with scorne as well as she.