I How I fly when feathers be not mine Though all my wishes do attend? How tie my wounded safe to thine So to me, like sun to moon, descend? Or if thou wilt not bend thy frame to keep thy brow o'ercrowned with mist I'll rise so thy place shall stay the same But will not depart from heights unkiss'd For may be struck and kept with pride When lovers from just demands ne'er hide.
II My eyes are darker than the moon Or are they I cannot decide His tender makes other's out of tune And me how I cannot them abide His movements are of more feline grace His hands are soft and pale as And though I've rarely seen a face More perfect looks I should to see For others may be pleasanter in But all my love a work of art.
III How is it I smile when I am sad? From what resource do I derive strength? lost none but a thing I never had To keep it I go to any length But distance is not in a heart So I could weep and say I've been wronged And yet, as ever, be so far From him to whom I swore I belonged Alas, I blame as though he were I loved him but, poor fool, he knew.
IV If all you I am, as I am quite, Then why dost thou not Dost thou not see A perfect match? If thou art bright, why, when thou dost love, love'st thou not me Instead preferring someone far all you claim to most admire? I would Commit you as a if proved Thus mad you were my ward for own good And yet I'm making light of my own I finally love, yet love in vain.