Thou art not so black as my heart, br Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art ; br What would'st thou say ? shall both our properties by thee be spoke, br —Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke? br br Marriage rings are not of this stuff ; br Oh, why should ought less precious, or less tough br Figure our loves ? except in thy name thou have bid it say, br '—I'm cheap, and nought but fashion ; fling me away.' br br Yet stay with me since thou art come, br Circle this finger's top, which didst her thumb ; br Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with me ; br She that, O ! broke her faith, would soon break thee.