Tixall Poetry/The Jealous Lover

by unknown author

LXXII.

The Jealous Lover.

 

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Forgive me, if your looks I thought
 Did once some change discover;
To be too jelous is the fault
 Of every tender lover.

My truth those kind reproches show,
 Which you blame so severely:
A signe, alas! you little know,
 What 'tis to love sincerely.

The torments of a long dispair
 I did in silence smother,
But 'tis a paine I can not bear,
 To think you love another.

My fate depends alone on you,
 I am but what you make me;
Divinely blest if you prove true,
 Undone if you forsake me.