CII
Reading edition
MY love makes of my life a sad display; All full of good desires within me born, Like youthful verdure in the early morn; Yet by its mischief ruining each day. No more have I the courage that shall say: “From such poor revenue let me be torn, Lest my life’s high estate be basely shorn, And I no longer have wherewith to pay.” No! still I hold to thy heart’s company, That would but seldom grant what I may use, Not knowing by what power thou holdest me; Yet giving all; that all must still refuse; Unless this line be writ upon the sky, And bring eternal life to this my muse.