Then should thine arm upon my shoulder rest,
And weight of grief sway down thy troubled head;
Then should thy tears upon my sheet be shed,
And then thy heart should pant upon my breast.
But when that other cares thy heart do seize,
Alas, what succour gain I then by this,
But double grief for thine and mine unease?
Yet when thou see'st thy hurts to wound my heart,
And so art taught by me what pity is,
Perhaps thy heart will learn to feel my smart.
IX
Dear, though from me your gratious looks depart,
And of that comfort do myself bereave,
Which both I did deserve and did receive,
Triumph not over much in this my smart.
Nay, rather they which now enjoy thy heart
For fear just cause of mourning should conceive,
Lest thou inconstant shouldst their trust deceive
Which like unto the weather changing art.
For in foul weather birds sing often will
In hope of fair, and in fair time will cease,
For fear fair time should not continue still;
So they may mourn which have thy heart possessed
For fear of change, and hope of change may ease
Their hearts whom grief of change doth now molest.
X
If ever any justly might complain
Of unrequited service, it is I;
Change is the thanks I have for loyalty,
And only her reward is her disdain;
So as just spite did almost me constrain,
Through torment her due praises to deny,
For he which vexed is with injury
By speaking ill doth ease his heart of pain.
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