| WERE ’t aught to me I bore the canopy | |
| With my extern the outward honouring, | |
| Or laid great bases for eternity, | |
| Which prove more short than waste or ruining? | |
| Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour | 5 |
| Lose all and more by paying too much rent, | |
| For compound sweet foregoing simple savour | |
| Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent? | |
| No; let me be obsequious in thy heart, | |
| And take thou my oblation, poor but free, | 10 |
| Which is not mix’d with seconds, knows no art, | |
| But mutual render, only me for thee. | |
| Hence, thou suborn’d informer! a true soul | |
| When most impeach’d stands least in thy control. |