Whatso befall, till that I sterve

By proof full well it shall be known,
That I shall still myself apply
To serve and suffer patiently.

Yea though my grief find no redress,
But still increase before mine eyes,
Though my reward be cruelness,
With all the harm hap can devise,
Yet I profess it willingly

To serve and suffer patiently.

Yea though Fortune her pleasant face
Should shew, to set me up aloft,

And straight my wealth for to deface,
Should writhe away, as she doth oft,
Yet would I still myself apply
To serve and suffer patiently.

There is no grief, no smart, no woe,
That yet I feel, or after shall,
That from this mind may make me go;
And whatsoever me befall,

I do profess it willingly

To serve and suffer patiently.

TO HIS UNKIND LOVE.

WHAT rage is this? what furor? of what kind?

What power? what plague doth weary thus my

Within my bones to rankle is assigned,

What poison pleasant sweet?

[mind?

Lo, see, mine eyes flow with continual tears,
The body still away sleepless it wears,

My food nothing my fainting strength repairs,
Nor doth my limbs sustain.

In deep wide wound, the deadly stroke doth turn

To cureless scar that never shall return:

Go to, triumph, rejoice thy goodly turn,
Thy friend thou dost oppress.

Oppress thou dost, and hast of him no cure,
Nor yet my plaint no pity can procure,
Fierce tiger fell, hard rock without recure,
Cruel rebel to love.

Once may thou love, never beloved again,
So love thou still, and not thy love obtain,
So wrathful love, with spites of just disdain,
May threat thy cruel heart.

THE LOVER COMPLAINETH HIS ESTATE

I SEE, that chance hath chosen me

Thus secretly to live in pain,
And to another given the fee,
Of all my loss to have the gain:
By chance assign'd thus do I serve,
And other have that I deserve.

Unto myself sometime alone

I do lament my woful case;
But what availeth me to moan
Since truth and pity hath no place

In them, to whom I sue and serve?
And other have that I deserve.

To seek by mean to change this mind,
Alas, I prove, it will not be;
For in my heart I cannot find
Once to refrain, but still agree,
As bound by force, alway to serve,
And other have that I deserve.

Such is the fortune that I have,
To love them most that love me lest;
And to my pain to seek, and crave
The thing that other have possest:
So thus in vain alway I serve,
And other have that I deserve.

And till I may appease the heat,
If that my hap will hap so well,
To wail my woe my heart shall frete,
Whose pensive pain my tongue can tell;
Yet thus unhappy must I serve,

And other have that I deserve.

WHETHER LIBERTY BY LOSS OF LIFE,

OR LIFE IN PRISON AND THRALDOM BE TO
BE PREFERRED.

LIKE as the bird within the cage inclosed,
The door unsparred, her foe the hawk without,
"Twixt death and prison piteously oppressed,
Whether for to choose standeth in doubt;

Lo, so do I, which seek to bring about,
Which should be best by determination,
By loss of life liberty, or life by prison.

O mischief by mischief to be redressed,
Where pain is best, there lieth but little pleasure,
By short death better to be delivered,

Than bide in painful life, thraldom, and dolour:
Small is the pleasure, where much pain we suffer,
Rather therefore to choose me thinketh wisdom,
By loss of life liberty, than life by prison.

And yet methinks, although I live and suffer,
I do but wait a time and fortune's chance;
Oft many things do happen in one hour;
That which oppress'd me now may me advance.
In time is trust, which by death's grievance
Is wholly lost. Then were it not reason

By death to choose liberty, and not life by prison. But death were deliverance, where life lengths

pain,

Of these two ills let see now choose the best,
This bird to deliver that here doth plain:
What say, ye lovers? which shall be the best?
In cage thraldom, or by the hawk opprest:
And which to choose make plain conclusion,
By loss of life liberty, or life by prison?

HE RULETH NOT THOUGH HE REIGN OVER

REALMS, THAT IS SUBJECT TO HIS OWN LUSTS.

Ir thou wilt mighty be, flee from the rage
Of cruel will; and see thou keep thee free
From the foul yoke of sensual bondage:
For though thine empire stretch to Indian sea,
And for thy fear trembleth the farthest Thulè,
If thy desire have over thee the power,
Subject then art thou and no governor.

If to be noble and high thy mind be moved,
Consider well thy ground and thy beginning;
For he that hath each star in heaven fixed,
And gives the moon her horns, and her eclipsing,
Alike hath made the noble in his working;
So that wretched no way may thou be,
Except foul lust and vice do conquer thee.
All were it so thou had a flood of gold
Unto thy thirst, yet should it not suffice;
And though with Indian stones a thousand fold,
More precious than can thyself devise,
Ycharged were thy back; thy covetise,
And busy biting yet should never let

Thy wretched life, ne do thy death profet.