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The louer thinkes no payne to great, wherby he may obtaine his lady.
Sith
that the way to welth is woe,
And after paynes pleasure prest,
Whie should I than dispaire so.
Ay bewailling mine vnrest,
Or let to lede my liefe in paine,
So worthy a lady to obtayne,
And after paynes pleasure prest,
Whie should I than dispaire so.
Ay bewailling mine vnrest,
Or let to lede my liefe in paine,
So worthy a lady to obtayne,
The fisher man doth count no care,
To cast hys nets to wracke or wast,
And in reward of eche mans share,
A gogen gift is much imbrast,
Sould I than grudge it grief or gall,
That loke at length to whelm a whall.
To cast hys nets to wracke or wast,
And in reward of eche mans share,
A gogen gift is much imbrast,
Sould I than grudge it grief or gall,
That loke at length to whelm a whall.
The pore mā ploweth his groūd for graine,
And soweth his seede increase to craue,
And for thexpence of all hys paine.
Oft holdes it hap his seede to saue,
These pacient paines my part do show,
To long for loue er that I know.
And soweth his seede increase to craue,
And for thexpence of all hys paine.
Oft holdes it hap his seede to saue,
These pacient paines my part do show,
To long for loue er that I know.
And take no skorne to scape from skill,
To spende my spirites to spare my speche,
To win for welth the want of will.
And thus for rest to rage I reche,
Running my race as rect vpright:
Till teares of truth appease my plight.
To spende my spirites to spare my speche,
To win for welth the want of will.
And thus for rest to rage I reche,
Running my race as rect vpright:
Till teares of truth appease my plight.
And plant my plaint within her brest,
Who doubtles may restore againe,
My harmes to helth my ruthe to rest.
That laced is within her chayne,
For earst ne are the grieues so gret:
As is the ioy when loue is met.
Who doubtles may restore againe,
My harmes to helth my ruthe to rest.
That laced is within her chayne,
For earst ne are the grieues so gret:
As is the ioy when loue is met.
For who couets so high to clim,
As doth the birde that pitfoll toke,
Or who delightes so swift to swim.
As doth the fishe that scapes the hoke,
If these had neuer entred woe:
How mought they haue reioysed so.
As doth the birde that pitfoll toke,
Or who delightes so swift to swim.
As doth the fishe that scapes the hoke,
If these had neuer entred woe:
How mought they haue reioysed so.
But yet alas ye louers all,
That here me ioy thus lesse reioyce,
Iudge not amys whatso befall.
In me there lieth no power of choyse,
It is but hope that doth me moue:
Who standerd bearer is to loue.
That here me ioy thus lesse reioyce,
Iudge not amys whatso befall.
In me there lieth no power of choyse,
It is but hope that doth me moue:
Who standerd bearer is to loue.
On whose ensigne when I beholde,
I se the shadowe of her shape,
Within my faith so fast I folde:
Through dread I die, through hope I scape,
Thus ease and wo full oft I finde,
What will you more she knoweth my minde.
I se the shadowe of her shape,
Within my faith so fast I folde:
Through dread I die, through hope I scape,
Thus ease and wo full oft I finde,
What will you more she knoweth my minde.
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