I'LE NEVER LOVE THEE MORE
To be Sung with its pleasant New Tune.
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MY Dear and onely Love I pray,
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that little World of thee;
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Be Govern'd by no other sway,
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but purest Monarchie:
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For if Confusion have a part,
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which vertuous Souls abhore;
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I'le call a Synod in mine Heart,
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and never love thee more.
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As Alexander I will Reign,
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and I will Reign alone;
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My thoughts did ever yet disdain,
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a Rival on my Throne:
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He either fears his Fate too much,
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or his Deserts are small;
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That dares not put it to the Touch,
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to gain or lose at all.
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But I will Reign and Govern still.
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and always give the Law;
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And have each Subject at my will,
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and all to stand in aw:
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But 'gainst my Batteries if I find,
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thou kick or vex me sore;
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As that thou set me up a Blind,
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I'le never Love thee more.
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And in the Empire of thy heart,
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where I should sollie be;
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If others do pretend a part,
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or dares to share with me:
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Or Committees if thou erect,
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and go on such a score;
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I'le laugh and smile at thy neglect,
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and never Love thee more.
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But if thou will prove faithful then,
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and constant in thy word;
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I'le make thee Glorious by my Pen,
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and Famous by my Sword:
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I'le serve thee in such Noble ways,
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was ne're yet heard before;
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I'le crown and deck thy head with bayes,
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and Love thee more and more.
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The Second Part.
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MY Dear and only Love take heed.
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how thou thy self dispose;
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Let not all longing Lovers feed,
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upon such looks as those:
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I'le Marble-wall thee round about,
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my self shall be the Door;
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And if thy heart chance to slide out:
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I'le never Love thee more.
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Let not thy Oaths like Volies shot,
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make any Breach at all;
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Nor smoothness of their Language Plot,
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which wait to scale the Wall:
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Nor balls of wild-fire Love consume,
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the Shrine which I adore;
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For if such smoak about thee foam,
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I'le never Love thee more.
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I know thy Vertues be too strong,
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to suffer by surprise;
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If that thou slights their Love so long,
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their Siege at last will rise:
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And leave thee Conqueror in thy Health
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and state thou was before;
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And if thou prove a Common-wealth,
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I'le never Love thee more.
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But if by fraud or by deceit,
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thy Heart to ruine come;
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I'le sound no Trumpet as I wont
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nor March by Tuke of Drum:
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But hold my Drum like Achans Cup,
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[?]
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I'le do with thee as Nero did,
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when he set Rome on fire;
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Not only all Relief forbid,
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But to a Hill retire;
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And scorn to shed a Tear to save,
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thy Spirit grown so poor;
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But laugh and smile thee to thy Grave,
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and never Love thee more.
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Then shall my Heart beset by thine,
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but in far different case,
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For mine was true so was not thine,
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but lookt like Janus Face:
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Thy Beauty shin'd at first so bright,
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and wo is me therefore;
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That e're I found thy Love so bright,
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that I could love no more.
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My Heart shall with the Sun be fixt,
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for Constancy most strange;
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And thine shall with the Moon be next,
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delighting ay in change:
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For as thou waves with every Wind,
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and Sailes through every Shore;
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And leaves my constant Heart behind,
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how can I Love thee more.
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Yet for the Love I bare thee once,
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lest that thy Name should die;
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A Monument of Marble Stone,
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the Truth shal testifie;
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That every Pilgrim passing by,
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may pity and deplore;
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And sighing, read the Reason why
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I cannot Love thee more.
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The Golden Laws of Love shal be,
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upon these Pillars hung;
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A Single Heart, a Simple Eye,
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a True and Constant Tongue:
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Let no Man for more Loves pretend,
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then he hath Hearts in store;
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True Love begun will never end,
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love one and love no more.
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And when all Gallants leads about,
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this Monument to view;
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It's written both within and out,
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thou'rt Treacherous I trow:
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Then in a Passion they shal pause,
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and thusly sighing sore;
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Alace he had too just a Cause,
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never to Love thee more.
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And when the tracing Gods do Face,
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from East and West do flee;
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They shal Record it to thy shame,
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how thou hast loved me:
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And how in odds our Love's been such
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as few hath been before;
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Thou lov'd too many, ay too much,
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that I can Love no more.
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The misty Mounts, the smoking Lakes,
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the Rocks resounding Echo:
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The whisling winds, the woods that shake
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shal all with me sing hey ho:
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The tossing Seas, the tumbling Boats,
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tears dropping from each Oar,
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Shal tune with me their Turtle Notes,
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I'le never Love thee more.
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Yet as the Turtle chaste and true,
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her Fellow so regrates,
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And daily sighs for her Adieu,
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that ne're renews her Notes:
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But though thy Faith was never fast,
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which grieves me wondrous sore;
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[?] shal live in Love so Chaste,
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[?]
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