5 Pain or pleasure now may you plant,
Even which it please you steadfastly;
Do which you list, I shall not want
To be your servant secretly.

6 And since so much I do desire,
To be your own assuredly;
For all my service, and my hire
Reward your servant liberally.

OF THE PAINS AND SORROWS CAUSED BY LOVE.

1 WHAT meaneth this! when I lie alone
I toss, I turn, I sigh, I groan;

My bed me seems as hard as stone:
What means this?

2 I sigh, I plain continually;

The clothes that on my bed do lie,
Always methink they lie awry;
What means this?

3 In slumbers oft for fear I quake;
For heat and cold I burn and shake;
For lack of sleep my head doth ake;
What means this?

4 A mornings then when I do rise,
I turn unto my wonted guise,
All day after muse and devise;
What means this?

5 And if perchance by me there pass, She, unto whom I sue for grace,

The cold blood forsaketh my face;
What means this?

6 But if I sit near her by,

With loud voice my heart doth cry,
And yet my mouth is dumb and dry;
What means this?

7 To ask for help no heart I have;
My tongue doth fail what I should crave;
Yet inwardly I rage and rave;

What means this?

8 Thus have I passed many a year,
And many a day, though nought appear,
But most of that that most I fear;

What means this?

THE LOVER RECOUNTETH THE VARIABLE FANCY OF HIS FICKLE MISTRESS.

1 Is it possible?

That so high debate,

So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,

Should end so soon, and was begun so late;
Is it possible?

2 Is it possible?

So cruel intent,

So hasty heat, and so soon spent,

From love to hate, and thence for to relent;

Is it possible?

3 Is it possible?
That any may find,

Within one heart so diverse mind,

To change or turn as weather and wind ;
Is it possible?

That turns as oft as chance or die,

The truth whereof can any try;
Is it possible?

5 It is possible,

For to turn so oft;

To bring that low'st that was most aloft;
And to fall highest, yet to light soft;
It is possible!

6 All is possible!

Whoso list believe,

Trust therefore first and after preve;

As men wed ladies by license and leave;
All is possible!

THE ABUSED LOVER

BEWAILS THE TIME THAT EVER HIS EYE BEHELD HER TO WHOM HE HAD GIVEN HIS FAITHFUL HEART.

1 ALAS! poor man, what hap have I,

That must forbear that I love best!

I trow, it be my destiny,

Never to live in quiet rest.

2 No wonder is though I complain;
Not without cause ye may be sure;

I seek for that I cannot attain,

Which is my mortal displeasure.

3 Alas! poor heart, as in this case
With pensive plaint thou art opprest;
Unwise thou were to desire place
Whereas another is possest.

4 Do what I can to ease thy smart,

Thou wilt not let to love her still;
Hers, and not mine I see thou art;
Let her do by thee as she will.

5 A careful carcass full of pain

Now hast thou left to mourn for thee,
The heart once gone, the body is slain;
That ever I saw her woe is me;

6 Mine eye, alas! was cause of this,
Which her to see had never his fill;
To me that sight full bitter is,
In recompense of my good will.

་

7 She that I serve all other above

Hath paid my hire, as ye may see;
I was unhappy, and that I prove,
To love above my poor degree.

AN EARNEST SUIT TO HIS UNKIND MIS-
TRESS NOT TO FORSAKE HIM.

1 AND wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay! for shame!
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.1
And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay! say nay!

1Grame:' sorrow.

2 And wilt thou leave me thus
That hath loved thee so long,
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

3 And wilt thou leave me thus
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart ;

Neither for pain nor smart?
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

4 And wilt thou leave me thus,
And have no more pity,

Of him that loveth thee?

Alas! thy cruelty!

And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

HE REMEMBERETH THE PROMISE

HIS LADY ONCE GAVE HIM OF AFFECTION, AND
COMFORTETH HIMSELF WITH HOPE.

1 THAT time that mirth did steer my ship,
Which now is fraught with heaviness;
And Fortune beat not then the lip,
But was defence of my distress,
Then in my book wrote my mistress;
'I am yours, you may well be sure;
And shall be while my life doth dure.'

2 But she herself which then wrote that Is now mine extreme enemy;