Tixall Poetry/The Jealous Lover
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LXXII.
The Jealous Lover.
Forgive me, if your looks I thought
Did once some change discover;
To be too jelous is the fault
Of every tender lover.
Did once some change discover;
To be too jelous is the fault
Of every tender lover.
My truth those kind reproches show,
Which you blame so severely:
A signe, alas! you little know,
What 'tis to love sincerely.
Which you blame so severely:
A signe, alas! you little know,
What 'tis to love sincerely.
The torments of a long dispair
I did in silence smother,
But 'tis a paine I can not bear,
To think you love another.
I did in silence smother,
But 'tis a paine I can not bear,
To think you love another.
My fate depends alone on you,
I am but what you make me;
Divinely blest if you prove true,
Undone if you forsake me.
I am but what you make me;
Divinely blest if you prove true,
Undone if you forsake me.