Send home my long strayd eyes to mee, 
Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee, 
Yet since there they have learn'd such ill, 
   Such forc'd fashions, 
   And false passions, 
      That they be 
      Made by thee 
Fit for no good sight, keep them still. 

Send home my harmlesse heart againe, 
Which no unworthy thought could staine, 
Which if it be taught by thine 
   To make jestings 
   Of protestings, 
      And breake both 
      Word and oath, 
Keepe it, for then 'tis none of mine. 

Yet send me back my heart and eyes, 
That I may know, and see thy lyes, 
And may laugh and joy, when thou 
   Art in anguish 
   And dost languish 
      For some one 
      That will none, 
Or prove as false as thou art now.