XIII.
[Clime O hart, clime to thy rest]
To his louing friend M. Holder, M. of Arts.
[1]
Clime O hart, clime to thy rest,
Climing yet take heed of falling,
Climers oft euen at their best,
Catch loue, downe falth, hart appaling.
2
Mounting yet if she do call,
And desire to know thy arrant:
Feare not stay, and tell her all,
Falling shee will be thy warrant.
3
Rise, oh rise, but rising tell,
When her beautie brauely wins thee,
T'sore vp where that she doth dwell,
Downe againe thy basenesse brings thee.
4
If she aske what makes thee loue her,
Say her vertue, not her face:
For though beauty doth approue her,
Mildnesse giues her greater grace.
5
Rise then rise if she bid rise,
Rising say thou risest for her:
Fall if she do thee dispise,
Falling still do thou adore her.
6
If thy plaint do pittie gaine,
Loue and liue to her honor:
If thy seruice she disdaine,
Dying yet complaine not on her.
