XXXIX.

O, how thy worth with manners may I fing,
When thou art all the better part of me?

What can mine own praise to mine own felf bring?
And what is 't but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,

And our dear love lose name of fingle one,

That by this feparation I may give

That due to thee which thou deservest alone.
O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy four leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts fo fweetly doth deceive,

And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praifing him here who doth hence remain !

XL.

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What haft thou then more than thou hadft before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadft this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyfelf deceivest
By wilful tafte of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,

Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.