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'Tis true, 'tis day, what though it be? |
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O wilt thou therefore rise from me? |
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Why should we rise, because 'tis light? |
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Did we lie down, because 'twas night? |
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Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither, |
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Should in despite of light keep us together. |
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Light hath no tongue, but is all eye; |
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If it could speak as well as spy, |
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This were the worst, that it could say, |
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That being well, I fain would stay, |
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And that I loved my heart and honor so |
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That I would not from him, that had them, go. |
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Must business thee from hence remove? |
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Oh, that's the worst disease of love, |
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The poor, the foul, the false, love can |
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Admit, but not the busied man. |
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He which hath business, and makes love, doth do |
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Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo. |
