THUS ends my love, but this doth grieve me most, That so it ends; but that ends too; this yet, Besides the wishes, hopes and time I lost, Troubles my mind awhile, that I am set Free, worse than deni'd: I can neither boast Choice nor success, as my case is, nor get Pardon from myself that I loved not A better mistress, or her worse; this debt Only's her due still, that she be forgot Ere chang'd, lest I love none; this done, the taint Of foul inconstancy is clear'd at least In me, there only rests but to unpaint Her form in my mind, that so dispossess'd, It be a temple, but without a saint. |