Nor seek means to provide Leave off such frowning cheer, To stop a thing so clear. THE LOVER PRAYETH NOT TO BE DISDAINED, REFUSED, MISTRUSTED, NOR FORSAKEN. 1 DISDAIN me not without desert; Nor leave me not so suddenly; Refuse me not without cause why; This careful knot needs knit I must. 3 Mistrust me not, though some there be, 4 Forsake me not, till I deserve; But since ye know what I intend. 5 Disdain me not, that am your own; Refuse me not, that am so true; Mistrust me not, till all be known; Forsake me not now for no new. 1' But:' perhaps for bot, unless. THE LOVER LAMENTETH HIS ESTATE 1 FOR want of will in woe I plain, Redoubled thanks aye doth deserve; In fruitless hope, alas! do sterve. 2 3 As hound that hath his keeper lost, 16 3 4 I die, though not incontinent; Wherefore cease of such cruelty, 1' Wanhope:' despair.- Sterve:' perish, die.-'Incontinent:' immediately. THE LOVER WAILETH HIS CHANGED JOYS. 1 Ir ever man might him avaunt Of Fortune's friendly chere, 2 Sometime I stood so in her grace, Each joy I thought did me embrace, 3 I had, what would you more, perdie? Thus Fortune's will was unto me 4 For she hath turned so her wheel, May wail the time that I did feel Wherewith she fed me than: 1'Rathe:' soon. For broken now are her behests, 5 Yet would I well it might appear Though my deserts have been too dear To merit such reward: Since Fortune's will is now so bent TO HIS LOVE THAT HATH GIVEN HIM ANSWER OF REFUSAL. 1 THE answer that ye made to me, my dear, When I did sue for my poor heart's redress, Hath so appall'd my countenance and my chere, That in this case I am all comfortless, Since I of blame no cause can well express. 2 I have no wrong, where I can claim no right, Nought ta'en me fro, where I have nothing had, Yet of my woe I cannot so be quite; Namely, since that another may be glad With that, that thus in sorrow makes me sad. 3 Yet none can claim, I say, by former grant, 4 Now good then, call again that bitter word, Late, or too soon, let it not rule the gain, THE LOVER DESCRIBETH HIS BEING 2 Through mine eye the stroke from hers did slide, 3 Then was I like a man for woe amazed, Or like the fowl that fleeth into the fire; For while that I upon her beauty gazed, The more I burn'd in my desire. 4 Anon the blood start in my face again, Inflam'd with heat, that it had at my heart, And brought therewith, throughout in every vein, A quaking heat with pleasant smart. 5 Then was I like the straw, when that the flame Is driven therein by force and rage of wind; I cannot tell, alas! what I shall blame, Nor what to seek, nor what to find. |