Sir John Suckling
¶[7609-/6^2]
¶2^4 The Constant LoverOut upon it, I have lovedThree whole days together!And am like to love three more,If it prove fair weather.
¶Time shall moult away his wingsEre he shall discoverIn the whole wide world againSuch a constant lover.
¶But the spite on 't is, no praiseIs due at all to me:Love with me had made no stays.Had it any been but she.
¶Had it any been but she,And that very face.There had been at least ere thisA dozen dozen in her place.
¶2J5 Why so Pale and WanWhy so pale and wan, fond lover?Prythee, why so pale?Will, if looking well can't move her,Looking ill prevail?Prythee, why so pale?
Sir William D'avenant
¶Quit, quit, for shame! this will not move,This cannot take her;If of hetself she will not love,Nothing can make her:The devil take her!