Love Not Me

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,

Nor for any outward part:
No, nor for a constant heart!
For these may fail or turn to ill:
Should thou and I sever.

Keep, therefore, a true woman's eye,
And love me still, but know not why!
So hast thou the same reason still
To dote upon me ever.

A Song Of Love

Hey, rose, just born Twin to a thorn;

Wasn'tso with you, O Love and Scorn? 

Sweet eyes that smiled, Now wet and wild: 

O Eye and Tear- mother and child. 

Well: Love and Pain Be kinfolks twain; 

Yet would, Oh would I could Love again.