Cleo Laine - Take All My Loves [Sonnet 40]

Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all
What hast thou then
More than thou hadst before?
No love,  my love

That thou mayst true love call
All mine was thine
Before thou hadst this more
Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest

I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest
But yet be blam'd, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief

Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong
Than hate's known injury

Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows
Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes

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