Sonnet XVIII. I swear, fair Licia, still for to be thine

Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)

I SWEAR, fair LICIA, still for to be thine;

By heart, by eyes, by what I hold most dear!

Thou checkedst mine oath, and said, “These were not mine;

And that I had no right by them to swear.”

Then by my sighs, my passions, and my tears,

My vows, my prayers, my sorrow, and my love,

My grief, my joy, my hope, and hopeless fears,

My heart is thine, and never shall remove!

These are not thine, though sent unto thy view;

All else I grant, by right they are thine own.

Let these suffice, that what I swear is true;

And more than this, if that it could be known.

So shall all these, though troubles, ease my grief,

If that they serve to work in thee belief.