My Crown Is In My Heart, Not

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow

'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your Angling, When Your Diver Did Hang A Salt Fish On His Hook, Which He With Fervency Drew Up.

Give Me That Man That Is Not Passion's Slave, And I Will Wear Him In My Heart's Core, In My Heart Of Heart, As I Do Thee.

You, And Your Lady, Take From My Heart All Thankfulness!

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get. I To The World Am Like A Drop Of Water That In The Ocean Seeks Another Drop, Who, Falling There To Find His Fellow Forth, Unseen, Inquisitive, Confounds Himself: So I, To Find A Mother And A Brother, In Quest Of Them, Unhappy, Lose Myself.