| Sir Walter Raleigh (1554?–1618). Poems. 1892. | | | | XXIX. | | Shall I, like an hermit, dwell |
| | | SHALL I, like an hermit, dwell | |
| On a rock or in a cell, | |
| Calling home the smallest part | |
| That is missing of my heart, | |
| To bestow it, where I may | 5 |
| Meet a rival every day? | |
| If she undervalue me, | |
| What care I how fair she be? | |
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| Were her tresses angel-gold, | |
| If a stranger may be bold | 10 |
| Unrebuked, unafraid, | |
| To convert them to a braid, | |
| And, with little more ado, | |
| Work them into bracelets too; | |
| If the mine be grown so free, | 15 |
| What care I how rich it be? | |
| |
| Were her hand as rich a prize | |
| As her hairs or precious eyes, | |
| If she lay them out to take | |
| Kisses for good manners’ sake, | 20 |
| And let every lover skip | |
| From her hand unto her lip; | |
| If she seem not chaste to me, | |
| What care I how chaste she be? | |
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| No; she must be perfect snow, | 25 |
| In effect as well as show; | |
| Warming but as snow-balls do, | |
| Not, like fire, by burning too; | |
| But when she by change hath got | |
| To her heart a second lot, | 30 |
| Then, if others share with me, | |
| Farewell her, whate’er she be! | | | | |
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