Page:Duke of Montrose's garland, or, I'll never love thee more.pdf/6

(6) Then shall thy heart be set by mine,

but in far different case;

For mine was true, so was not thine,

but look’d like Janus’ face:

For as the waves with every wind,

so sails thou ev'ry shore,

And leaves my constant heart behind,

How can I love thee more?

My heart shall with the sun be fixt,

For constancy most strange;

And thine shall with the moon be mixt,

delighting ay in change:

Thy beauty shin’d at first most bright,

and woe is me therefore,

That e’er I found thy love so light,

I could love thee no more.

The misty mountains, smoking lakes,

the rock’s resounding echo!

The whistling wind that murmur makes

shall all with me sing hey-ho;

The tossing seas, the tumbling boats,

tears dropping from each shore,

Shall tune with me their turtle-notes,

I’ll never love thee more: