George Wither was born at Brentworth, 1588. He went to Magdalene College, Oxford. He led a troop of Royalist horse against the Covenanters, but three years later he became a Puritan and held command in Cromwell’s army. He was imprisoned during the Restoration for a time. He died in 1667. Wither wrote, besides his poems, a volume of church hymns, several satires, and a translation of the Psalms.

Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman’s fair?
Or make pale my cheek with care
’Cause another’s rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flow’ry meads in May,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?

Shall a woman’s virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her well-deservings known
Make me quite forget my own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may merit name of best,
If she be not such to me,
What care I how good she be?

Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne’er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe.
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo
I can scorn and let her go,
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?