I Do But Ask That You Be Always Fair

I do but ask that you be always fair That I forever may continue kind; Knowing me what I am, you should not dare To lapse from beauty ever, nor seek to bind My alterable mood with lesser cords; Weeping and such soft matters must invite To further vagrancy; and bitter words Chafe soon to irremediable flight, Wherefore I pray you if you love me dearly, Less dear to hold me than your own bright charms, Whence it may fall that until death, or nearly, I shall not move to struggle from your arms: Fade if you must,--I would but bid you be Like the sweet year, doing all things graciously.