Self-love

HE that cannot choose but love,

And strives against it still,

Never shall my fancy move,

For he loves against his will;

Nor he which is all his own,

And cannot pleasure choose;

When I am caught he can be gone,

And when he list refuse;

Nor he that loves none but fair,

For such by all are sought;

Nor he that can for foul ones care,

For his judgment then is nought;

Nor he that hath wit, for he

Will make me his jest or slave;

Nor a fool when others ——

He can neither ——

Nor he that still his mistress prays,

For she is thrall’d therefore;

Nor he that pays, not, for he says

Within, she’s worth no more.

Is there then no kind of men

Whom I may freely prove?

I will vent that humour then

In mine own self-love.