Licia, or Poemes of Loue In Honour of the admirable and singular vertues of his Lady, to the imitation of the best Latin Poets, and others. Whereunto is added the Rising to the Crowne of Richard the third [by Giles Fletcher] |
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AN ODE.
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 | Licia, or Poemes of Loue |  |
54
AN ODE.
Love I repent me that I thought,My sighes, and languish, dearely bought.
For sighes aud languish both did prove,
That he that languisht, sight for love.
Cruell rigour foe to state,
Lookes disdainfull, fraught with hate.
I did blame, but had no cause,
(Love hath eyes, but hath no lawes)
She was sadde, and could not chuse,
To see me sigh, and sitt, and muse.
We both did love, and both did doubt,
Least any should our love finde out.
Our heartes did speake by signes most hidden,
This meanes was left, all els forbidden.
I did frowne, her love to trye,
She did sigh, and straight did crye.
Both of us did signes beleeve,
Yet either grieved friend to greeve.
I did looke, and then did smyle;
She left sighing all that whyle.
Both were glad to see that change:
Things in love that are not strange.
Suspicion foolish foe to reason,
Caus'd me seeke, to finde some treason.
I did court another Dame,
(False in love it is a shame)
She was sorrie this to vewe,
Thinking faith was prov'd untrewe.
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One whome false, she once did prove:
I did vowe I never ment,
From promise made, for to relent.
The more I said, the worse she thought,
My othes and vowes were dem'd as nought.
(False) (she sayde) howe can it be,
To court another, yet love me.
Crownes and Love no partners brooke,
If she be lyk'd, I am forsooke.
Farewell false, and love her still,
Your chaunce was good, but mine was ill.
No harme to you, but this I crave,
That your newe love, may you desave.
And jeast with you, as you have donne,
For light's the love, that's quickely wonne.
Kinde, and fayre-sweete, once beleeve me,
Ieast I did, but not to greeve thee.
Court I did, but did not love,
All my speach was you to prove.
Wordes and sighes, and what I spent,
(In shewe to her) to you were ment,
Fond I was your love to crosse,
(Ieasting love oft brings this losse.)
Forget this fault, and love your frend,
Which vowes his trueth unto the end,
Content (she sayd) if this you keepe,
Thus both did kisse, and both did weepe.
For women, long they can not chyde,
As I by proofe in this have tryde.
| Licia, or Poemes of Loue | |