|  | Thomas Carew 
 
 
 | SONG. 
 TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRESS.
 
 WHEN thou, poor excommunicate
 From all the joys of love, shalt see
 The full reward and glorious fate
 Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
 Then curse thine own inconstancy.
 
 A fairer hand than thine shall cure
 That heart, which thy false oaths did wound ;
 And to my soul a soul more pure
 Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound,
 And both with equal glory crown'd.
 
 Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain
 To Love, as I did once to thee ;
 When all thy tears shall be as vain
 As mine were then, for thou shalt be
 Damned for thy false apostacy.
 
 
 
 | 
 Source:
 Vincent, Arthur, ed.  The Poems of Thomas Carew.
 London: George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., nd.  20.
 
 
 
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