 | Poems (1872) |  |
72
XIX. FAYRE FOOLES.
If woemen could be fayre and yet not fonde,
Or that theire loue were firme, not fickell, still
I woulde not meruayle that they make mē bonde,
By seruise longe to purchase theyre good will;
But when I se how frayll those creatures are,
I muse that men forget themselues so farr.
Or that theire loue were firme, not fickell, still
I woulde not meruayle that they make mē bonde,
By seruise longe to purchase theyre good will;
But when I se how frayll those creatures are,
I muse that men forget themselues so farr.
To marcke the choyse they make, and how they change,
How ofte from Phœbus they do flee to Pann,
Vnsettled still, like haggardes willd, theye range,
These gentlle byrdes that flye from man to man;
Who woulde not scorne and shake thē from the fyste,
And let them flye, fayre fooles, which waye they lyste.
How ofte from Phœbus they do flee to Pann,
Vnsettled still, like haggardes willd, theye range,
These gentlle byrdes that flye from man to man;
Who woulde not scorne and shake thē from the fyste,
And let them flye, fayre fooles, which waye they lyste.
Yet, for disporte we fawne and flatter bothe,
To passe the tyme when nothinge else can̄ please;
And trayne them to our lure with subtylle othe,
Till, wearye of theyre wiles, ourselues we ease:
And than we saye, when we theire fancye trye,
To playe with fooles, oh, what a foole was I.
To passe the tyme when nothinge else can̄ please;
And trayne them to our lure with subtylle othe,
Till, wearye of theyre wiles, ourselues we ease:
And than we saye, when we theire fancye trye,
To playe with fooles, oh, what a foole was I.
| Poems (1872) | |