Shall I then hope when faith is fled?
Can I seeke love when hope is gone?
Or can I live when Love is dead?
Poorely hee lives, that can love none.
Her vowes are broke, and I am free;
Shee lost her faith in loosing mee.

When I compare mine owne events,
When I weigh others like annoy,
All doe but heape up discontents
That on a beauty build their joy.
Thus I of all complaine, since shee
All faith hath lost in loosing mee.

So my deare freedome have I gain'd
Through her unkindnesse and disgrace;
Yet could I ever live enchain'd,
As shee my service did embrace.
But shee is chang'd, and I am free:
Faith failing her, Love dyed in mee.