The nineteenth Song

You are too proud to love, and are too kind
To hate: what therefore is your mind?
Think you none worthy of you, 'cause you know
That you should be admired so?
And will you not hate, 'cause you would
Not be a maid when you are old?

Though nature hath been liberal in your parts,
And you (for jewels) do wear hearts
If you your self do onely like and love,
You in a wrong sphere for you move.
As you were made to love, beside
So you were made to be enjoy'd.