Come, come away
Or let me go;
Must I here stay
Because you're slow,
And will continue so;
—Troth, lady, no.
I scorn to be
A slave to state;
And since I'm free,
I will not wait,
Henceforth at such a rate,
For needy fate.
If you desire
My spark should glow,
The peeping fire
You must blow;
Or I shall quickly grow
To frost, or snow.
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