TELL me no more how fair she is, br I have no minde to hear br The story of that distant bliss br I never shall come near: br By sad experience I have found br That her perfection is my wound. br br And tell me not how fond I am br To tempt a daring Fate, br From whence no triumph ever came, br But to repent too late: br There is some hope ere long I may br In silence dote my self away. br br I ask no pity (Love) from thee, br Nor will thy justice blame, br So that thou wilt not envy me br The glory of my flame: br Which crowns my heart when ere it dyes, br In that it falls her sacrifice.