FAREWELL, Love, and all thy laws for ever;
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more:
Senec, and Plato, call me from thy lore,
To perfect wealth, my wit for to.endeavour;
In blind error when I did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,
Taught me in trifles that I set no store;
But scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever:
Therefore, farewell, go trouble younger hearts,
And in me claim no more authority:
With idle youth go use thy property,
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts:
For, hitherto though I have lost my time,
Me list no longer rotten boughs to clime.
THE LOVER DESPAIRING TO ATTAIN UNTO HIS LADY'S GRACE RELINQUISHETH THE Pursuit.
WHOSо list to hunt? I know where is an hind!
But
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore;
I am of them that furthest come behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
as for me, alas! I may no more,
Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore,
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt
As well as I, may spend his time in vain!
And graven with diamonds in letters plain,
There is written her fair neck round about;
'Noli me tangere; for Cæsar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.'
THE DESERTED LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF
WITH REMEMBRANCE THAT ALL WOMEN ARE BY
DIVERS doth use, as I have heard and know,
When that to change their Ladies do begin
To mourn, and wail, and never for to lynn;
Hoping thereby to 'pease their painful woe.
And some there be that when it chanceth so
That women change, and hate where love hath been,
They call them false, and think with words to win
The hearts of them which otherwhere doth grow.
But as for me, though that by chance indeed
Change hath outworn the favour that I had,
I will not wail, lament, nor yet be sad,
Nor call her false that falsely did me feed;
But let it pass, and think it is of kind
That often change doth please a woman's mind.
THAT HOPE UNSATISFIED IS TO THE LOVER'S
HEART AS A PROLONGED DEATH.
I ABIDE, and abide; and better abide,
After the old proverb the happy day.
And ever my Lady to me doth say,
'Let me alone, and I will provide.'
I abide, and abide, and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway,
N' other obtaining, nor yet denied.
Aye me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth
A prolonging of a dying death,
Or a refusing of a desired thing.
Much were it better for to be plain,
Than to say, 'Abide,' and yet not obtain.
HE PRAYETH HIS LADY TO BE TRUE; FOR NO ONE CAN RESTRAIN A WILLING MIND.
THOUGH I myself be bridled of my mind,
Returning me backward by force express ;
If thou seek honour, to keep thy promess
Who may thee hold, but thou thyself unbind?
Sigh then no more, since no way man may
Thy virtue to let, though that frowardness
Of Fortune me holdeth; and yet as I may guess Though other be present thou art not all behind. Suffice it then that thou be ready there
At all hours; still under the defence
Of Time, Truth, and Love to save thee from offence. Crying I burn in a lovely desire,
dear Mistress that may not follow; Whereby mine absence turneth me to sorrow.
WISHETH THAT HIS RIVAL MIGHT EXPERIENCE THE SAME
FORTUNE HE HIMSELF HAD TASTED.
To rail or jest, ye know I use it not;
Though that such cause sometime in folks I find.
And though to change ye list to set your mind,
Love it who list, in faith I like it not.
And if ye were to me, as ye are not,
I would be loth to see you so unkind:
But since your fault must needs be so by kind;
Though I hate it I pray you love it not.
Things of great weight I never thought to crave,
This is but small; of right deny it not :
Your feigning ways, as yet forget them not.
But like reward let other Lovers have;
That is to say, for service true and fast,
Too long delays, and changing at the last.
REQUEST TO CUPID FOR REVENGE OF
HIS UNKIND LOVE.
BEHOLD, Love, thy power how she despiseth;
My grievous pain how little she regardeth :
The solemn oath, whereof she takes no cure,
Broken she hath, and yet, she bideth sure,
Right at her ease, and little thee she dreadeth :
Weaponed thou art, and she unarmed sitteth:
To thee disdainful, all her life she leadeth;
To me spiteful, without just cause or measure:
Behold, Love, how proudly she triumpheth.
I am in hold, but if thee pity moveth,
Go, bend thy bow, that stony hearts breaketh,
And with some stroke revenge the displeasure
Of thee, and him that sorrow doth endure,
And, as his lord, thee lowly here entreateth.
COMPLAINT FOR TRUE LOVE UNREQUITED.
WHAT vaileth truth, or by it to take pain?
To strive by steadfastness for to attain
How to be just, and flee from doubleness?
Since all alike, where ruleth craftiness,
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