The Divorce

Dear, back my wounded heart restore
And turn away thy powerful eyes
Flatter my willing soul no more
Love must not hope what Fate denies

Take, take away thy smiles and kisses
Thy Love wounds deeper then Disdain
For he that sees the Heaven he misses
Sustains two Hels, of losse and pain

Shouldst thou some others suit prefer
I might return thy scorn to thee
And learn Apostasie of her
Who taught me first Idolatry

Or in thy unrelenting breast
Should I disdain or coynesse move
He by thy hate might be realest
Who now is prisoner to thy love

Since then unkind Fate will divorce
Those whom Affection long united
Be thou as cruel as this force
And I in death shall be delighted

Thus whilst so many suppliants woe
And beg they may thy pitty prove
I onely for thy scorn do sue
‘Charity here not to love
Tis