MY dear and only Love， I pray

    That little world of thee

    Be govern‘d by no other sway

    Than purest monarchy；

    For if confusion have a part

    （Which virtuous souls abhor），

    And hold a synod in thine heart，

    I‘ll never love thee more.

    Like Alexander I will reign，

    And I will reign alone；

    My thoughts did evermore disdain

    A rival on my throne.

    He either fears his fate too much，

    Or his deserts are small，

    That dares not put it to the touch，

    To gain or lose it all.

    And in the empire of thine heart，

    Where I should solely be，

    If others do pretend a part

    Or dare to vie with me，

    Or if Committees thou erect，

    And go on such a score，

    I‘ll laugh and sing at thy neglect，

    And never love thee more.

    But if thou wilt prove faithful then，

    And constant of thy word，

    I‘ll make thee glorious by my pen

    And famous by my sword；

    I‘ll serve thee in such noble ways

    Was never heard before；

    I‘ll crown and deck thee all with bays，

    And love thee more and more.