 | Poems of Thomas, Lord Vaux |  |
XIII. BEYNG IN LOUE HE COMPLAINETH.
What dome is this, I faine would knowe,
That demeth by all contraries,
What God, or whether height or lowe,
Now would I learne some warrantise.
Some saie the blinded God aboue,
Is he that worketh all by loue:
But he that stirreth strife, the truthe to tell,
I alwaies feele, but knowe not well.
That demeth by all contraries,
What God, or whether height or lowe,
Now would I learne some warrantise.
Some saie the blinded God aboue,
Is he that worketh all by loue:
But he that stirreth strife, the truthe to tell,
I alwaies feele, but knowe not well.
Some saie Alecto with her mates,
Are thei which breedeth all anoye:
Who sitts like Haggs in hellishe gates
And seeks still whom thei maie destroye.
Some saie againe, tis destinie,
But how it comes, or what it is,
I let it passe, before I misse.
Are thei which breedeth all anoye:
Who sitts like Haggs in hellishe gates
And seeks still whom thei maie destroye.
Some saie againe, tis destinie,
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I let it passe, before I misse.
Despite doeth alwaies worke my wo,
And happ as yet holds hardly still:
For feare I set my frendshipp so,
And thinke againe to reape good will.
I doe but striue against the winde,
For more I seeke, the lesse I finde:
And where I seeke, most for to please
There finde I alwaies my desease.
And happ as yet holds hardly still:
For feare I set my frendshipp so,
And thinke againe to reape good will.
I doe but striue against the winde,
For more I seeke, the lesse I finde:
And where I seeke, most for to please
There finde I alwaies my desease.
And thus I loue, and doe reape still,
Nothyng but hate for my good will.
Nothyng but hate for my good will.
L. V.
FINIS.
| Poems of Thomas, Lord Vaux | |