If I could shrink an ailing body piece
then from my chest dilute the torrid pain
that billowed when your love had parted lease
and drowns me in; a churning, scalding strain.

Decrease the ***** till the burning yields
and donor none, such grief is best to waste,
dispose where to; from other cores it shields
let feast by creatures, used to bitter taste.

If left with none to love, repose to sleep
in dormant I, then have no blood to give
for hurt would have no muse to reach as deep
nor then again let lovelorn wounds relive.

O' take this beating ball of lover's tar!
To drain her out my pulse, and mold no scar.