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Willobie His Avisa

Or The true Picture of a modest Maid, and of a chast and constant wife. In Hexamiter verse. The like argument wherof, was neuer heretofore published [by Henry Willoby]
  

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CANT. XV
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CANT. XV

AVISA.


What now? what newes? new warres in hand?
More trumpets blowne of fond conceites?
More banners spread of follies band?
New Captaines coyning new deceites?
Ah woe is me, new campes are pla'st,
Whereas I thought all daungers past.
O wretched soule, what face haue I,
That can not looke, but some misdeame?
What sprite doth lurke within mine eye,
That kendles thoughts so much vncleane?
O lucklesse fewture neuer blest,
That sow'st the seedes of such vnrest.
What wandring fits are these that moue
Your hart, inragde with euery glance;
That iudge a woman straight in loue,
That welds her eye aside by chance,
If this your hope, by fancie wrought,
You hope on that, I neuer thought.
If nature giue me such a looke,
Which seemes at first vnchast or ill,
Yet shall it proue no bayted hooke,
To draw your lust to wanton will,
My face and will doe not agree,
Which you in time (perhaps) may see.
If smiling cheare and friendly words,
If pleasant talke such thoughts procure,
Yet know my hart, no will afords,
To scratching kites, to cast the lure,
If milde behauior thus offend,
I will assaie this fault to mend.

16

You plant your hope vpon the sand,
That build on womens words, or smiles;
For when you thinke your selfe to stand
In greatest grace, they proue but wyles,
When fixt you thinke on surest ground,
Then fardest off they will be found.