texts: Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. </s> <s> For doting; not for loving, pupil mine. </s> <s> I pray thee, chde me not; whom I love now doth grace for grace and love for love allow; the other did not so.
labels: O, she new well. Thy love read by rote and could not spell. Come, young waverer, come, go with me, In one respect I'll thy assistant be; for this alliance may so happy prove, to turn you household rachor to pure love.