Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before!?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst 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 thyself deceivest
By wilful taste 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!. Www@QuestionHome@Com