Succour thou therefore, in thee it is alone.
Stay that with faith, that faithfully doth moan,
Thou also givest me both hope and fear,
Remember me then, En vogant Galere.'

By seas, and hills elonged from thy sight,
Thy wonted grace reducing to my mind,
Instead of sleep thus I occupy the night;
A thousand thoughts, and many doubts I find,
And still I trust thou canst not be unkind,
Or else despair my comfort and my chere
Would she forthwith, 'En vogant la Galere.'

Yet, on my faith! full little doth remain
Of any hope whereby I may myself uphold;
For since that only words do me retain,

I

may well think the affection is but cold.

But since my will is nothing as I would,

And in thy hands it resteth whole and clear,
Forget me not, 'En vogant la Galere.'

THE LOVER PRAISETH THE BEAUTY OF HIS LADY'S HAND.

O GOODLY hand,
Wherein doth stand

My heart distract in pain:

Dear hand, alas!

In little space
My life thou dost restrain.

O fingers slight,
Departed right,

So long, so small, so round!

Goodly begone,

And yet a bone

Most cruel in my wound.

With lilies white

And roses bright

Doth strain thy colour fair:

Nature did lend

Each finger's end A pearl for to repair.

Consent at last,

Since that thou hast

My heart in thy demain,

For service true

On me to rue,

And reach me love again.

And if not so

There with more woe

Enforce thyself to strain

This simple heart, That suffered smart, And rid it out of pain.

THAT THE EYE BEWRAYETH ALWAY THE SECRET AFFECTIONS OF THE HEART.

AND if an eye may save or slay,
And strike more deep than weapon long;
And if an eye by subtle play,

May move one more than any tongue;
How can ye say that I do wrong,
Thus to suspect without desert?
For the eye is traitor to the heart.

To frame all well, I am content
That it were done unweetingly;
But yet I say, (who will assent,)
To do but well, do nothing why
That men should deem the contrary;
For it is said by men expert;

That the eye is traitor of the heart.

go seek the school,

But yet, alas! that look, all soul,
That I do claim of right to have,
Should not, methink
To please all folk, for who can crave
Friendlier thing than heart witsave
By look to give in friendly part;
For the eye is traitor of the heart.

And my suspect is without blame;
For as ye say, not only I

But other mo have deem'd the same;

Then is it not jealousy,

But subtle look of reckless eye

Did range too far, to make me smart;
For the eye is traitor of the heart.

But I your Friend shall take it thus,
Since you will so, as stroke of chance ;
And leave further for to discuss,
Whether the stroke did stick or glance?
But 'scuse who can let him advance
Dissembled looks, but for my part,
My eye must still betray my heart.
And of this grief ye shall be quit,
In helping Truth steadfast to go.
The time is long that Truth doth sit
Feeble and weak, and suff'reth woe;
Cherish him well, continue so;

Let him not fro' your heart astart;
Then fears not the eye to shew the heart.

THE LOVER COMPLAINETH

THAT FAITH MAY NOT AVAIL WITHOUT THE Favour of FANTASY.

IF Fancy would favour,

As my deserving shall;
My Love, my Paramour,
Should love me best of all.

But if I cannot attain
The grace that I desire,

Then may I well complain
My service, and my hire.
Fancy doth know how
To further my true heart;
If Fancy might avow
With Faith to take part.

But Fancy is so frail
And flitting still so fast,
That Faith may not prevail

To help me, first nor last. For Fancy at his lust, Doth rule all but by guess; Whereto should I then trust In truth or steadfastness.

Yet gladly would I please The fancy of her heart, That may me only ease And cure my careful smart. Therefore, my Lady dear, Set once your Fantasy To make some hope appear, Of steadfast remedy.

For if he be my friend, And undertake my woe, My grief is at an end

If he continue so.

Else Fancy doth not right As I deserve and shall, To have you day and night,

To love me best of all.