Can She Excuse My Wrongs

Can she excuse my wrongs with virtue's cloak? Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke? Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I Find? Now, now, where shadows do the Bodies stand. Thou must be abused if thy sight be dimmed. Court-love is like to watery currents and Born to bubbles which on the water swim. Wilt thou be thus abused still, Seeing that she will write thee never? If thou canst not overcome her will, Then love will be thus fruitless ever. Wilt thou be thus abused still, Seeing that she will write thee never? Thou canst not overcome her will, then love will Be thus fruitless ever. Was I so base that I might not aspire Unto those high joys which she holds from me? As they are high, so high is my desire. If she this deny, what can granted be? If she will yield but that which reason is, It is reason's will that love should be just. Dear, make me happy still by granting this, Or cut off delays if that I die must. Better a thousand times to die than for to Live thus ill-tormented, dear, But remember it was I who for thy sake Did die contented. Better a thousand times to die than for to Live thus ill-tormented, dear, But remember it was I who for thy sake Did die contented.