CXXXV.

Whoever hath her wish, thou haft thy Will,
And Will to boot, and Will in overplus;
More than enough am I that vex thee still,
To thy fweet will making addition thus.
Wilt thou, whofe will is large and spacious,
Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others seem right gracious,

And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store;

So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.

Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill;

Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

CXXXVI.

If thy foul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind foul that I was thy Will,
And will, thy foul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-fuit, fweet, fulfil.
Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
In things of great receipt with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckon'd none:
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Though in thy ftore's account one must be;
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a fomething fweet to thee:

Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will.