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CII.
My
love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I
love not less, though less the show appear:
That love
is merchandized whose rich esteeming
The owner's
tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new and
then but in the spring
When I was wont to greet it
with my lays,
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that
the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her
mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild
music burthens every bough
And sweets grown common
lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her I
sometime hold my tongue,
Because I would not dull you
with my song.
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