University of Virginia Library

II B 4

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[O Happy dames, that may embrace]

O Happy dames, that may embrace
The frute of your delight,
Help to bewaile the wofull case,
And eke the heavy plight
Of me, that wonted to rejoyce
The fortune of my pleasant choyce:
Good Ladies, help to fill my moorning voyce.
In ship, freight with rememberance
Of thoughts, and pleasures past,
He sailes that hath in governance
My life, while it wil last:
With scalding sighes, for lack of gale,
Furdering his hope, that is his sail
Toward me, the swete port of his avail.
Alas, how oft in dreames I se
Those eyes, that were my food,
Which somtime so delited me,
That yet they do me good.
Wherwith I wake with his returne,
Whose absent flame did make me burne.
But when I find the lacke, Lord how I mourne?
When other lovers in armes acrosse,
Rejoyce their chiefe delight:
Drowned in teares to mourne my losse,
I stand the bitter night,
In my window, where I may see,
Before the windes how the cloudes flee.
Lo, what a mariner love hath made me.
And in grene waves when the salt flood
Doth rise, by rage of winde:
A thousand fansies in that mood
Assayle my restlesse mind.
Alas, now drencheth my swete fo,
That with the spoyle of my hart did go,
And left me but (alas) why did he so?
And when the seas waxe calme againe,
To chase fro me annoye.
My doubtfull hope doth cause me plaine:
So dreade cuts of my joye.
Thus is my wealth mingled with wo,
And of ech thought a dout doth growe,
Now he comes, will he come? alas, no no.