His Answer to the Nymph's Song

If to be loved it thee offend,
I cannot choose but love thee still;
And so thy grief shall have no end.
Whiles that my life maintains my will.
Oh! let me yet with grief complain,
Since such a torment I endure;
Or else fulfil thy great disdain,
To end my life with death most sure.
For as no credit thou wilt lend,
And as my love offends thee still.
So shall thy sorrows have no end.

Whiles that my life maintains my will.
If that by knowing thee I could
Leave off to love thee as I do;
Not to offend thee, then I would
Leave off to like and love thee too.
But since all love to thee doth tend.
And I of force must love thee still.
Thy grief shall never have an end,
Whiles that my life maintains my will.