At her fair hands how have I grace entreated
With prayers oft repeated!
Yet still my love is thwarted:
Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted.

How often have my sighs declared my anguish,
Wherein I daily languish!
Yet still she doth procure it:
Heart, let her go, for I cannot endure it
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it.

But if the love that hath and still doth burn me
No love at length return me,
Out of my thoughts I'll set her:
Heart, let her go, O heart, I pray thee, let her!
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
Fix'd in the heart, how can the heart forget her?