University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

LXI

[The furyous gonne in his rajing yre]

The furyous gonne in his rajing yre,
When that the bowle is rammed in to sore,
And that the flame cannot part from the fire,
Cracketh in sonder, and in the ayer doeth rore
The shevered peces; right so doeth my desire
Whose flame encreseth from more to more,
Wych to let owt I dare not loke nor speke:
So now hard force my hert doeth all to breke.