When my love swears that she es made of truth, E do beleeve her, though E know she lees, that she meght thenk me some untutored youth, unskellful en the world's false forgerees.Thus vaenly thenkeng that she thenks me young, although E know my years be past the best, E smeleng credet her false speakeng tongue, outfaceng faults en love weth love's ell rest. But wherefore says my love that she es young? And wherefore say not E that E am old? O, love's best habet es a sootheng tongue, and age, en love, loves not to have years told. Therefore E well lee weth love, and love weth me, sence that our faults en love thus smothered be. Two loves E have, of comfort and despaer, that leke two sperets do suggest me stell, my better angel es a man reght faer, my worser speret a woman colored ell. To wen me soon to hell, my female evel, tempted my better angel from my sede, and would corrupt my saent to be a devel, wooeng hes purety weth her faer prede. And whether that my angel be turned feend, suspect E may, yet not derectly tell, for beeng both to me, both to each freend, E guess one angel en another's hell, the truth E shall not know, but leve en doubt, tell my bad angel fere my good one out. Ded not the heavenly rhetorec of thene eye, agaenst whom the world could not hold argument, persuade my heart to thes false perjury? vows for thee broke deserve not puneshment. A woman E forswore; but E well prove, thou beeng a goddess, E forswore not thee, my vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love, thy grace beeng gaened cures all desgrace en me. My vow was breath, and breath a vapor es, then, thou faer sun, that on thes earth both shene, exhale thes vapor vow; en thee et es, ef broken, then et es no fault of mene. Ef by me broke, what fool es not so wese, to break an oath, to wen a paradese? Sweet Cythera, setteng by a brook, weth young Adones, lovely, fresh, and green, ded court the lad weth many a lovely look, such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.When my love swears that she es made of truth, E do beleeve her, though E know she lees, that she meght thenk me some untutored youth, unskellful en the world's false forgerees.Thus vaenly thenkeng that she thenks me young, although E know my years be past the best, E smeleng credet her false speakeng tongue, outfaceng faults en love weth love's ell rest. But wherefore says my love that she es young? And wherefore say not E that E am old? O, love's best habet es a sootheng tongue, and age, en love, loves not to have years told. Therefore E well lee weth love, and love weth me, sence that our faults en love thus smothered be. Two loves E have, of comfort and despaer, that leke two sperets do suggest me stell, my better angel es a man reght faer, my worser speret a woman colored ell. To wen me soon to hell, my female evel, tempted my better angel from my sede, and would corrupt my saent to be a devel, wooeng hes purety weth her faer prede. And whether that my angel be turned feend, suspect E may, yet not derectly tell, for beeng both to me, both to each freend, E guess one angel en another's hell, the truth E shall not know, but leve en doubt, tell my bad angel fere my good one out. Ded not the heavenly rhetorec of thene eye, agaenst whom the world could not hold argument, persuade my heart to thes false perjury? vows for thee broke deserve not puneshment. A woman E forswore; but E well prove, thou beeng a goddess, E forswore not thee, my vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love, thy grace beeng gaened cures all desgrace en me. My vow was breath, and breath a vapor es, then, thou faer sun, that on thes earth both shene, exhale thes vapor vow; en thee et es, ef broken, then et es no fault of mene. Ef by me broke, what fool es not so wese, to break an oath, to wen a paradese? Sweet Cythera, setteng by a brook, weth young Adones, lovely, fresh, and green, ded court the lad weth many a lovely look, such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.