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[A cloud of care hath covred all my coste]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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[A cloud of care hath covred all my coste]

A cloud of care hath covred all my coste,
And stormes of strife doo threaten to appeare:
The waves of woo, which I mistrusted moste,
Have broke the bankes wherein my life lay cleere:
Chippes of ill chaunce, are fallen amyd my choyce,
To marre the mynd, that ment for to rejoyce.

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Before I sought, I founde the haven of hap,
Wherin (once found) I sought to shrowd my ship,
But lowring love hath lifte me from hir lap,
And crabbed lot beginnes to hang the lip:
The proppes of darke mistrust do fall so thick,
They pearce my coate, and touch my skin at quick.
What may be saide, where truth cannot prevaile?
What plea maie serve, where will it selfe is judge?
What reason rules, where right and reason faile?
Remedilesse then must the guiltlesse trudge:
And seeke out care, to be the carving knife,
To cut the thred that lingreth such a life.
F. J.