To an Unsteadfast Mistress

When thou did'st think I did not love,
Then thou did'st doat on me :—
Now when thou find'st that I do prove
As kind as kind can be,
Love dies in thee.

What way to fire the mercury
Of thy inconstant mind,
Methinks it were good policy
For me to turn unkind,
To make thee kind.

Yet I will not good nature strain,
To buy at so great cost,
That which before I did obtain,
I make account almost,
That it is lost.

And tho' I might myself excuse,
By imitating thee,
Yet will I not examples use,
That may bewray in me
Lightness to be.

But since I once gave thee my heart,
My constancy shall shew,
That tho' thou play the woman's part,
And from a friend turn foe
Men do not so.