My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.
Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise