‘Out upon it!
 
Out upon it, I have lov’d
      Three whole days together;
And am like to love three more,
      If it hold fair weather.
 
Time shall moult away his wings
      Ere he shall discover
In the whole wide world agen
      Such a constant Lover.
 
But a pox upon’t, no praise
      Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stay,
      Had it any been but she.
 
Had it any been but she
      And that very very Face,
There had been at least ere this
      A dozen dozen in her place.