Oh, do not die for I shall hate all women
So when thou art gone
That thee I shall not celebrate
When I remember, thou wast one

But yet thou canst not die, I know
To leave this world behind, is death
But when thou from this world wilt go
The whole world vapors with thy breath

Or if, when thou, the world's soul go'st
It stay, 'tis but thy carcass then
The fairest woman but thy ghost
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men

Oh, wrangling schools that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire
That this her fever might be it?

And yet she cannot waste by this
Nor long bear this torturing wrong
For much corruption needful is
To fuel such a fever long

These burning fits but meteors be
Whose matter in thee is soon spent
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee
Are unchangeable firmament

Yet 'twas of my mind, seizing thee
Though it in thee cannot persevere
For I had rather owner be
Of thee one hour, than all else ever