makes
friends of
enemies;
And
hitherto
doth love
on fortune
tend, For
who not
needs
shall
never lack
a friend,
And who in
want a
hollow
friend
doth try,
Directly
seasons
him his
enemy.
But,
orderly to
end where
I begun,
Our wills
and fates
do so
contrary
run That
our
devices
still are
overthrown;
Our
thoughts
are ours,
their ends
none of
our own.
So think
thou wilt
no second
husband
wed; But
die thy
thoughts
when thy
first lord
