Q 42

THat thou hast her it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I lov'd her dearly,
That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.

Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her,
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her,
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss,
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross,
But here's the joy, my friend and I are one,
Sweet flattery, then she loves but me alone.
buy me