Poem by John Wilbye

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,
Nor for any outward part,
No, nor for my constant heart, –
For those may fail, or turn to ill,
So thou and I shall sever:
Keep therefore a true woman’s eye,
And love me still, but know not why-
So hast thou the same reason still
To doat upon me ever!