Songes and Sonettes | ||
Of douteous loue.
Auisyng the bright beames of those fayre eyes,Where he abides that mine oft moistes and washeth:
The weried mynd streight from the hart departeth,
To rest within hys worldly Paradise,
What webbes there he hath wrought, well he perceaueth
Wherby then with him self on loue he playneth,
That spurs wyth fire, and brydleth eke with yse.
In such extremity thus is he brought:
Frosen now cold, and now he standes in flame:
Twixt wo, and welth: betwixt earnest, and game:
With seldome glad, and many a diuers thought:
In sore repentance of hys hardinesse.
Of such a roote to cometh frute frutelesse.
Songes and Sonettes | ||