About my heart, how'd you learn more than I?
Your time spent loving's less than half love's years,
And with that lengthy half it seems to die
When they, of many too, to yours it nears.
Assure no waste as comparison suggests:
The sweetest pleasures suffered no neglect;
Explored to full these hands and by requests
That had me thought my life had no defect,
What sweetly doubt you cast my shadow's past!
Yes now, to then, they take a shadowed form;
But seemingly anothers, running fast
Back to their time before your loving storm:
Then measure of my heart, by you have changed
Is measure of my past now most estranged!