The Course Of True Love Never Did

If This Were Played Upon A Stage Now, I Could Condemn It As An Improbable Fiction.

My Long Sickness Of Health And Living Now Begins To Mend, And Nothing Brings Me All Things.

Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though You Can Fret Me, You Cannot Play Upon Me.

Well, Whiles I Am A Beggar, I Will Rail, And Say There Is No Sin But To Be Rich; And Being Rich, My Virtue Then Shall Be To Say There Is No Vice But Beggary

Full Many A Lady I Have Eyed With Best Regard, And Many A Time Th' Harmony Of Their Tongues Hath Into Bondage Brought My Too Diligent Ear; For Several Virtues Have I Liked Several Women; Never Any With So Full Soul But Some Defect In Her Did Quarrel With The Noblest Grace She Owed, And Put It To The Foil.