When we were parted, 
Though but for a while, 
From my brest started 
A post ev'ry mile: 
But I feare, none were directed 
From your bosome to me; 
For a beauty so affected, 
Looks for Love custome free. 

Tis then no marveill
My state should decay,
Brought to be servil
And kept from my pay.
But ingratefull to the giver,
Know the Sea as your King,
Can as well exhaust a river,
As you suck up a spring.

And though triumphing
You rowle to the Main
Small streams are something
And part of your train.
Use me gently then that follow
Made by custome so tame,
I am silent whilest you swallow
Both my tears, and my name.