I Rather Would Entreat Thy Company; To

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

Oh, Thou Did'st Then Ne'er Love So Heartily. If Thou Rememb'rest Not The Slightest Folly That Ever Love Did Make Thee Run Inot, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Has't Not Sat As I Do Now, Wearying They Hearer In Thy Mistress's Praise, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Hast Not Broke From Company Abruptly, As My Passion Now Makes Me, Thou Has Not Loved. (silvius)

We Must Follow, Not Force Providence.

But What's So Blessed-fair That Fears No Blot? Thou Mayst Be False, And Yet I Know It Not.

Why, Then The World ’s Mine Oyster, Which I With Sword Will Open.