 | The Melancholie Knight |  |
To Patience.
Long haue I waited at thy woefull gate,With expectation to augment my state,
And sought for her which cannot yet be found,
The Lady that makes crazie credits sound;
She that I thinke will nere be friends with me,
Because a sunder we so often be:
But Patience I protest thou art to blame,
And I haue cause vpon thee to exclame,
Thou dost neglect, deferre, protract, delay,
And puts me emptie off from day to day;
34
Sayes, helpelesse friends, Patience good sir prouide:
Who can take vp an hundred pound, I pray,
And pawne some patience till he come and pay:
Or trade with Trades-man be for what it will,
That will take Patience hand vnto his bill.
No masters no, all gripe to get their owne,
And I from Patience am impatient growne.
| The Melancholie Knight | |