The Arbor of Amitie wherin is comprised pleasant Pohems and pretie Poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell |
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When he thought himselfe contemned.
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 | The Arbor of Amitie |  |
When he thought himselfe contemned.
O Hart why dost thou sigh: and wilt not breake,
O dolefull chaunce thou hast: a cause thereto
For thy rewarde in loue, and kindnesse eake,
Is recompenst by hate and deadly wo.
O dolefull chaunce thou hast: a cause thereto
For thy rewarde in loue, and kindnesse eake,
Is recompenst by hate and deadly wo.
Haue I so plight my heart and minde to thee:
Haue I beene bent so whole vnto thy hande,
And others now obtaine the fruit from me,
Thou art vnkinde forsooth: such foe to stande.
Haue I beene bent so whole vnto thy hande,
And others now obtaine the fruit from me,
Thou art vnkinde forsooth: such foe to stande.
O dolefull hart, thus plungde in pinching paine,
Lament no more, but breake thy truth to trie:
For where thy comfort was and ioy did raigne,
Now hate returnes, no newes, O hart now die.
Lament no more, but breake thy truth to trie:
For where thy comfort was and ioy did raigne,
Now hate returnes, no newes, O hart now die.
Lo thus the breeding birdes, their nests do builde,
But others take the gaines and fruites of them:
The crooked clowne so earth the toyling fielde,
But oft the crop, remaines to other men.
But others take the gaines and fruites of them:
The crooked clowne so earth the toyling fielde,
But oft the crop, remaines to other men.
3
Well time may come, wherein my fruitlesse part,
So ill bestowde: some others may bewaile
And wish they had, receiude my yeelding hart,
Whose louing roote, tooke grounde to small auaile.
So ill bestowde: some others may bewaile
And wish they had, receiude my yeelding hart,
Whose louing roote, tooke grounde to small auaile.
| The Arbor of Amitie | |