OUT upon it, I have loved   Three whole days together! And am like to love three more,   If it prove fair weather.

Time shall moult away his wings   Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again   Such a constant lover.

But the spite on 't is, no praise   Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays,   Had it any been but she.

Had it any been but she,   And that very face, There had been at least ere this   A dozen dozen in her place.

Sir John Suckling. 1609-1642

327. Why so Pale and Wan?

WHY so pale and wan, fond lover?         Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her,         Looking ill prevail?         Prithee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young sinner?         Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her,         Saying nothing do 't?         Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit for shame! This will not move;         This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love,         Nothing can make her:         The devil take her!