Classic Poem

WRITTEN AT THE KING'S COMMAND .

Thou that lov'd once, now lov'st no more,
For fear to show more love than brain,
With heresy unhatched before,
Apostacy thou dost maintain.
Can he have either brain or love,
That doth inconstancy approve?
A choice well made, no change admits,
And changes argue after-wits.

Say that she had not been the same,
Should thou therefore another be?
What thou in her as vice did blame,
Can that take virtue's name in thee?
No, thou in this her captive was,
And made thee ready by her glass;
Example led revenge astray,
When true love should have kept the way.

True love hath no reflecting end,
The object good sets all at rest,
And noble breasts will freely lend,
Without expecting interest.
'Tis merchant love, 'tis trade for gain,
To barter love for love again,
'Tis usury, nay worse than this,
For self-idolatry it is.

Then let her choice be what it will,
Let constancy be thy revenge;
If thou retribute good for ill,
Both grief and shame shall check her change.
Thus may'st thou laugh, when thou shalt see
Remorse reclaim her home to thee,
And where thou begg'st of her before,
She now sits begging at thy door.