Crowns In My Purse I

Why, Courage Then! What Cannot Be Avoided 'twere Childish Weakness To Lament Or Fear.

Teach Not Thy Lip Such Scorn, For It Was Made For Kissing, Lady, Not For Such Contempt.

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still For That Which Longer Nurseth The Disease, Feeding On That Which Doth Preserve The Ill, Th' Uncertain Sickly Appetite To Please. My Reason, The Physician To My Love, Angry That His Prescriptions Are Not Kept, Hath Left Me, And I Desperate Now Approve Desire Is Death, Which Physic Did Except.

To England Will I Steal, And There I'll Steal.

What To Ourselves In Passion We Propose, The Passion Ending, Doth The Purpose Lose.