Disdain not, madam, on him to look Whom sometime you have loved; And though you forswear it on a book, Error it may be proved. Though now your love be gone and spent, May hap you may it soon repent. Since that hereafter comes not yet Nor now is so good as then, Yet throw him not down but let him sit That so long hath been your man. The time may come he may you ease, Which now so sore doth you displease. Once I was he that now I am not. Yourself knows this full well. My mind you know well enough by rote; You need no fashion to spell. Fair word to you I use Though that you cruelly me refuse. What though new broom sweep very clean, Yet cast not the old away. That serves not sometime is often seen To serve well another day. And store of household is well had To keep the best and leave the bad. |