To Celia Pleading Want of Merit

Dear, urge no more that killing cause
Of our divorce;
Love is not fetter'd by such laws,
Nor bows to any force:
Though thou deniest I should be thine,
Yet say not thou deserv'st not to be mine.

Oh rather frown away my breath
With thy disdain,
Or flatter me with smiles to death;
By joy or sorrow slain,
'Tis less crime to be kill'd by thee,
Than I thus cause of mine own death should be.

Thyself of beauty to divest,
And me of love,
Or from the worth of thine own breast
Thus to detract, would prove
In us a blindness, and in thee
At best a sacrilegious modesty.

But, Celia, if thou wilt despise
What all admire,
Nor rate thyself at the just price
Of beauty or desire,
Yet meet my flames, and thou shalt see
That equal love knows no disparity.