Take all my loues,my loue,yea
take them all,
What haſt thou then more then
thou hadſt before?
No loue, my loue,that thou maiſt
true loue call,
All mine was thine,before thou
hadſt this more:
Then if for my loue,thou my loue
receiueſt,
I cannot blame thee,for my loue
thou vſeſt,
But yet be blam'd,if thou this
ſelfe deceaueſt
By wilfull taſte of what thy
ſelfe refuſeſt.
I doe forgiue thy robb'rie gentle
theefe
Although thou ſteale thee all my
pouerty:
And yet loue knowes it is a
greater griefe
To beare loues wrong,then hates
knowne injury.
Laſciuious grace,in whom all il wel ſhowes,
Kill me with ſpights yet we must not be foes.
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