28 (Song 4) - Poem by Mary Wroth
Sweetest Love returne againe,
Make not too long stay;
Killing mirth and forcing paine;
Sorrow leading way:
Let us not thus parted be,
Loue, and absence ne're agree.
But since you must needs depart,
And me haplesse leave;
In your journey take my heart,
Which will not deceive:
Yours it is, to you it flies,
Joying in those loved eyes.
So in part we shall not part,
Though we absent be,
Tyme, nor place, nor greatest smart,
Shall my bands make free:
Tyed I am, yet thinke it gaine,
In such knots I feele no paine.
But can I live, having lost
Chiefest part of me?
Heart is fled, and sight is crost,
These my fortunes be:
Yet deare heart goe, soone returne,
As good there as heere to burne.
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