Beyond all things I ask that thou art true;
take all my love for thy love is thine own
for with no love no error will I rue,
no fault to seek nor grievance to atone.
Do what thou will for I do wish it so
for with my love thou hast a two-fold gain,
with mine and thine if thou wouldst suffer woe
then be not grieved for I will bear the pain.
Too sweet, too sweet are thou for this harsh world
and never was this world fit for thy state,
for where's the rose that keeps its beauty furl'd
and were it so 'twould be a counterfeit.
Be true to you as night doth follow day
or as the rose befitting as it may.