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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. LXXI.
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CANT. LXXI.

H. W.
Bvt now farewell, your selfe shall see,
An odd exchange of frends in tyme,
you may perhappes then wish for mee,
And waile too late this cruell cryme:
Yea wish your selfe perhaps beshrewd,
That you to me such rigor shewd.
I cannot force you for to like,
Where cruell fancy doth rebell,
I must some other fortune seeke,
But where or how I cannot tell:
And yet I doubt where you shall find
In all your life so sure a friend.


Of pleasant dayes the date is donne,
My carcase pyneth in conceat,
The lyne of lyfe his race hath runne,
Expecting sound of deathes retreat:
Yet would I liue to loue thee still,
And do thee good against thy will.
How can I loue, how can I liue,
Whil'st that my hart hath lost his hope,
Dispaire abandons sweet reliefe,
My loue, and life haue lost their scope:
Yet would I liue thy feature to behold,
Yet would I loue, if I might be so bold.

These verses exceed measure, to shew that his affections keepe no compasse, and is exceeding loue.

My griefe is greene, and neuer springes,

My sorrowe full of deadly sap,
Sweet death remoue these bitter thinges,
Giue end to hard and cruell hap:
Yet would I liue, if I might see,
My life, or limmes might pleasure thee.
Farewell that sweet and pleasant walke,
The witnesse of my faith and wo,
That oft hath heard our frendly talke,
And giu'n me leaue my griefe to show,
O pleasant path, where I could see
No crosse at all but onely shee.

Il fine, fa il tutto.