University of Virginia Library

6.

[Will thow, remorsles fair]

Will thow, remorsles fair,
still laughe whill I lament,
And sall thy cheefe contentment be
to see me mallecontent?
Sall I narcissus lyke
ane flying shade still chaise,
Ore lyke pigmalion straine a stone
quhilk bare no sence of gra[ce]?
No, no, my blinde love now
must burrow reassonnes eyes,
It was thy fairnes made me fonnde,
ȝor wrong mone mak me [wise].
My iust desert's disdaines
to loue ane Loueles dame,
The lyfe of cupidis fyre consistes
Into ane mutuall flame
[[OMITTED]] gave thow but a looke,
or gaue thow but a smyle,
Ore sent thow furth but ane sweit siche
My sorrows to begyle,
My captiues thoucht's perhap's
might be redeem'd from pane,
And thois my mutineris maleconten's
mycht freind's wt hoip agane
But thow as it appear's,
still cairles of my gude,
And, as it seem's, wald eternize
thy bewtie with my bloode,
Ane great disgrace to the,
to me ane monstrous wrong,
Quhilk tyme will teache the to repent
befoir that it be long.
Then to prevente thy schame
and to abraidge my woe,
Because thow will noucht loue thy freinde,
I'le cease to lufe mȝ foe.