Newe Sonets and pretie Pamphlets. Written by Thomas Howell. Newly augmented, corrected and amended |
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The Louer deceaued, writes to his Ladie.
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 | Newe Sonets |  |
The Louer deceaued, writes to his Ladie.
Who wold haue thought that face of thine, had ben so ful of doblenesOr eles within those Cristall eyne, had rest so much vnstablenes,
Thi face so fair thi look so straūg, who wold haue thought so ful of chaūg
But truth it is as most men saye, in Cutlers blade is had much craft,
Who chepneth thine & make no saye, maie buy on broken in the haft,
And then repent and saye as I, lo what it is, to truste the eye.
In sleper hold who can put trust, or iudge a glas of sure mettall,
Thou art to blame to seme so iuste, and prooue so false in the triall,
But sith thou arte so false in deede, best plucke the vp & spyll the seede,
So yonge in yeares, so old in crafte, some petie it is that thou so arte,
More petie it is that nature grafte, so good a face with a false harte,
But since thou art in such a case, to sell thy selfe and hide thy face.
The Ducke vntaught of verie kind, doth swime & diue after ye Dame,
And thou likewise of sliper mynde, dost show of whom thy nature came,
Thou foūdest in thy mothers papes, to bait wt craft thy pleasant trapes,
So as the new & false doth please, the changing mind within her graft,
So doth the old and true dissease, her subtill wittes and preiuie crafts
And say true man trust not to much, yt falfe reward ye cometh of such.
Finis.
Farewell for euer and this my last.
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