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The vvorkes of a young wyt

trust vp with a Fardell of pretie fancies, profitable to young Poetes, preiudicial to no man, and pleasaunt to euery man to passe away idle tyme withall. Whereunto is ioyned an odde kynde of wooing, with a Banquet of Comfettes, to make an ende withall. Done by N. B. Gentleman

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[Oh bitter bale that wretched louers bide]
 
 
 
 
 
 

[Oh bitter bale that wretched louers bide]

[_]

Now this Gentileman one day standing in a greate muze of his Mystris, and in a straunge perplexity for the loue of her, sodeinly starte oute of his study, and beyng alone in his Chamber, tooke Pen and Incke and Paper, and in halfe a madde moode, wrote vpon the state of louers: which I (hauing some acquaintaunce with hym) one daye comming in to his Chamber founde lynge in his window, which hauing read ouer, I bare in mynde as I coulde, yet hauyng almoste forgotten it, my Muse brought it agayne to my remembraunce, and made me wryte as foloweth: which


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though it were imperfect, and not full finished, yet for that it somwhat likde me, I haue heere placed it with other imperfections.

Oh bitter bale that wretched louers bide,
now well, now il, now vp, now downe agayne:
Now clime, now fall, now stand, now backewarde slide,
now ioye with hope, now faynt with feare againe:
Now smile, now sigh, now sing, now seeme to crye,
now well in health, now sicke, now liue, now dye.
And as their ioyes by diuers meanes arise,
euen so their griefes, of sundry causes growe:
Some ioye to gaze vpon their Ladies eies,
and thinke in deede, they make a heaunely showe,
Some more doo marke the feature of their face,
some most will view her comely gallant grace.
Some greatly note the colour of her heare,
some view her body, some her hart, some arme:
Some legge, some foote, and some looke euery where,
but how now? soft, why fayth I meane no harme:
I doo but speake of louers day delyght,
for in the darke, you know there is no syght.
Now as their ioyes, so see what sorowes spring,
euen of those things that wrought the hartes delight,
First from the eies, which as to some they bring
a heaunely ioye, so breede they others spight,
For all one face, can as wel laugh as lowre,
by which such lookes, it yeeldes both sweete and sowre.
For proofe (alas) my seely selfe I vowe,
a smiling looke dooth much my hart reuiue:
And let me see my Lady knit her brow,
that frowne my hart into despayre dooth driue.

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Thus to be briefe, my mystris only eye,
may make the meane to make me liue or dye.
Finis.