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The louer describes his restlesse state.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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The louer describes his restlesse state.

As oft as I behold and se
The soueraigne bewtie that me bound:
The nier my comfort is to me,
Alas the fresher is my wound.
As flame doth quenche by rage of fire,
And running stremes consume by raine:
So doth the sight, that I desire,
Appease my grief and deadely paine,
First when I saw those cristall streames,
whose bewtie made my mortall wound:
I little thought within her beames
So swete a venom to haue found.
But wilfull will did prick me forth,
And blind Cupide did whippe and guide:
Force made me take my griefe in worth:
My fruitles hope my harme did hide.
As cruell waues full oft be found
Against the rockes to rore and cry:
So doth my hart full oft rebound
Ageinst my brest full bitterly.
I fall, and se mine own decay,
As on that beares flame in hys brest,
Forgets in paine to put away
The thing that bredeth mine vnrest.