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But ye whom love hath bound, by order of desire,
require, Come ye yet once again, and set your foot by mine, Whose woful plight and sorrows great no tongue may
well define. My love and lord, alas ! in whom consists my wealth, Hath fortune sent to pass the seas, in hazard of his
health. Whom I was wont t'embrace with well contented mind, Is now amid the foaming floods at pleasure of the wind, Where God will him preserve, and soon him home me
Without which hope my life, alas ! were shortly at an end. Whose absence yet, although my hope doth tell me plain, With short return he comes anon, yet ceaseth not my
pain. The fearful dreams I have ofttimes do grieve me so, That when I wake, I lie in doubt, where 1 they be true
Sometime the roaring seas, me seems, do grow so high, That
my dear lord, ay me! alas ! methinks I see him
die. And other time the same doth tell me he is come, And playing, where I shall him find, with his fair little
son.2 So forth I go apace to see that liefsome 3 sight, And with a kiss, methinks I say, 'Welcome, my lord,
my knight; Welcome, my sweet ; alas ! the stay of
; Thy presence bringeth forth a truce betwixt me and my
"Where:' whether._? « Fair little son :' this marks the reference to be to Lady Surrey and her son Thomas—* Liefsome :' dear, welcome.
Then lively doth he look, and salueth me again,
this pain ?' Wherewith the heavy cares, that heap'd are in my breast, Break forth and me dischargen clean of all my huge
unrest. But when I me awake, and find it but a dream, The anguish of my former woe beginneth more extreme ; And me tormenteth so that unneath 1
I find Some hidden place, wherein to slake the gnawing of my
mind. Thus every way you see with absence how I burn; And for my wound no cure I find, but hope of good re
turn : Save when I think, by sour how sweet is felt the more, It doth abate some of my pains, that I abode before ; And then unto myself I say, ' When we shall meet, But little while shall seem this pain, the joy shall be so
sweet.' Ye wiuds, I you conjure, in chiefest of your rage, That ye my lord me safely send, my sorrows to assuage; And that I may not long abide in this excess, Do your good will to cure a wight that liveth in distress.
A PRAISE OF HIS LOVE,
WHEREIN HE REPROVETH THEM THAT COMPARE THEIR
LADIES WITH HIS.
1 Give place, ye lovers, here before
That spent your boasts and brags in vain;
1. Unneath :' with difficulty.
Than doth the sun the candle light,
Or brightest day the darkest night. 2 And thereto hath a troth as just
As had Penelope the fair ;
As it by writing sealèd were :
Than I with pen have skill to show. 3 I could rehearse, if that I would,
The whole effect of Nature's plaint,
The like to whom she could not paint:
And what she said, I know it, I.
Her kingdom only set apart,
That could have gone so near her heart;
• She could not make the like again.' 5 Sith Nature thus gave her the praise,
To be the chiefest work she wrought,
On your behalf might well be sought,
TO HIS MISTRESS.
If he that erst the form so lively drew
Of Venus' face, triumph'd in painter's art,
Thy father then what glory did ensue,
By whose pencil a goddess made thou art ? Touched with flame that figure made some rue,
And with her love surprised many a heart. There lack'd yet that should cure their hot desire : Thou canst inflame and quench the kindled fire.
TO THE LADY THAT SCORNED HER LOVER.
1 ALTHOUGH I had a check,
To give the mate is hard ;
To keep my men in guard.
To give so great assay
To drive his men away ;
2 I rede ? you take good heed,
And mark this foolish verse;
That I will have your ferse.
And all your war is done,
To end that you begun.
3 For if by chance I win
Your person in the field,
Yourself to me to yield. 1. Neck :' apparently an expression used in chess playing, but the meaning is not clear._2 • Rede: ' advise.—3* Ferse :' the queen at chess.
For I will use my power,
As captain full of might;
As use to show me spite.
4 And for because you gave
Me check in such degree,
Now check, and guard to thee.
Stand stiff in thine estate :
If I can give thee mate.
A WARNING TO THE LOVER, HOW HE IS
ABUSED BY HIS LOVE.
Too dearly had I bought my green and youthful years, If in mine age I could not find when craft for love
appears; And seldom though I come in court among the rest, Yet can I judge in colours dim as deep as can the best. Where grief torments the man that suff'reth secret smaat, To break it forth unto some friend, it easeth well the
heart. So stands it now with me, for, my beloved friend, This case is thine, for whom I feel such torment of my
mind; And for thy sake I burn so in my secret breast, That till thou know my whole disease, my heart can
have no rest. I see how thine abuse hath wrested so thy wits, That all it yields to thy desire, and follows thee by fits.