TO THOMALIN by PHINEAS FLETCHER

@3Thomalin@1, since @3Thirsil@1 nothing ha's to leave thee,
And leave thee must; pardon me (gentle friend)
If nothing but my love I onely give thee;
Yet see how great this @3Nothing@1 is, I send:
For though this love of thine I sweetest prove,
@3Nothing's@1 more sweet then is this sweetest love.

The souldier @3Nothing@1 like his prey esteems;
@3Nothing@1 toss'd sailers equal with the shore:
@3Nothing@1 before his health the sick man deems;
The pilgrim hugges his countrey; @3Nothing@1 more:
The miser hoording up his golden wares,
This @3Nothing@1 with his precious wealth compares.

Our thoughts ambition onely @3Nothing@1 ends;
@3Nothing@1 fills up the golden-dropsied minde:
The prodigall, that all so lavish spends,
Yet @3Nothing@1 cannot; @3Nothing@1 stayes behinde:
The King, that with his life a kingdome buyes,
Then life or crown doth @3Nothing@1 higher prize.

Who all enjoyes, yet @3Nothing@1 now desires;
@3Nothing@1 is greater then the highest @3Jove@1:
Who dwells in heav'n, (then) @3Nothing@1 more requires;
Love, more then honey; @3Nothing@1 more sweet then love:
@3Nothing@1 is onely better then the best;
@3Nothing@1 is sure: @3Nothing@1 is ever blest.

I love my health, my life, my books, my friends,
Thee; (dearest @3Thomalin@1) @3Nothing@1 above thee:
For when my books, friends, health, life, fainting ends,
When thy love fails, yet @3Nothing@1 still will love me:
When heav'n, and aire, the earth, and floating mains
Are gone, yet @3Nothing@1 still untoucht remains.

Since then to other streams I must betake me,
And spitefull @3Chame@1 of all ha's quite bereft me;
Since Muses selves (false Muses) will forsake me,
And but this @3Nothing@1, nothing els is left me;
Take thou my love, and keep it still in store:
That given, @3Nothing@1 now remaineth more.

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