Whom dost thou thinke to be thy foe?
"Disdayn of my good wille."
Doth company displease?
"Yes, surelye, many one."
Where doth Desire delight to live?
"He loves to live alone."
Doth either tyme or age
Bringe him unto decaye?
"No, no, Desire both lives and dyes
Ten thousand times a daye."
Then, fond Desire, farewelle,
Thou art no mate for mee;
I sholde be lothe, methinkes, to dwelle
With such a one as thee.
NOTES
- Lond. 1589, p. 172.