There have been times when I could storm and plead, 
But you shall never hear me supplicate. 
These long months that have magnified my need 
Have made my asking less importunate, 
For now small favors seem to me so great 
That not the courteous lovers of old time 
Were more content to rule themselves and wait, 
Easing desire with discourse and sweet rhyme. 
Nay, be capricious, willful; have no fear 
To wound me with unkindness done or said, 
Lest mutual devotion make too dear 
My life that hangs by a so slender thread, 
And happy love unnerve me before May 
For that stern part that I have yet to play.