Mistress Fitton



  • That thou hast her is not all my grief,
    And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
    That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
    A loss in love that touches me more nearly,
    Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye,
    Thou dost love her because thou know'st I loveher,
    And for my sake, even so doth she abuse me,
    Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her,
    If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
    And losing her my friend hath found that loss,
    Both find each other and I lose both twain,
    And both for my sake lay on me this cross,
    But here's the joy-my friend and I are one,
    Sweet flattery then she loves but me alone.




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