The vvorkes of a young wyt trust vp with a Fardell of pretie fancies, profitable to young Poetes, preiudicial to no man, and pleasaunt to euery man to passe away idle tyme withall. Whereunto is ioyned an odde kynde of wooing, with a Banquet of Comfettes, to make an ende withall. Done by N. B. Gentleman |
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[Fly fansy fonde, and trouble me no more] |
 | The vvorkes of a young wyt |  |
[Fly fansy fonde, and trouble me no more]
[_]
This donne my Muse gan cal to minde a prety shorte solemne fansy, that the same man wrote in the tyme of his loue, touchinge his il hap, which presentely she willed me to pen, in this maner.
Fly
fansy fonde, and trouble me no more,
for where thou likst, thou findst vnlucky lot:
Die deepe desire, and vexe me not so sore,
for doe thy beste, and it auaileth not,
Leaue lowring loue, to breede me still suche grief,
as by no meanes, can euer finde relief.
for where thou likst, thou findst vnlucky lot:
Die deepe desire, and vexe me not so sore,
for doe thy beste, and it auaileth not,
Leaue lowring loue, to breede me still suche grief,
as by no meanes, can euer finde relief.
Fie fansy fie, why didste thou fixe mine eye,
on suche a starre as so hathe dimde my sighte:
Agayne, desire why didste thou clime so hye?
where thou canste neuer reache vnto the heighte.
And cruell loue, why didste thou yeelde me so,
a slaue to her, that daily workes my woe?
on suche a starre as so hathe dimde my sighte:
Agayne, desire why didste thou clime so hye?
where thou canste neuer reache vnto the heighte.
And cruell loue, why didste thou yeelde me so,
a slaue to her, that daily workes my woe?
But all in vaine I crye, my fansy still
doth like her beste, who wurste doth like of me,
And my desire doth thinke, perforce he will
assaulte the forte, that scaled can not be:
And loue doth force me honour her in hart,
who laughes at mee, to see me liue in smarte.
doth like her beste, who wurste doth like of me,
And my desire doth thinke, perforce he will
assaulte the forte, that scaled can not be:
And loue doth force me honour her in hart,
who laughes at mee, to see me liue in smarte.
Finis.
| The vvorkes of a young wyt | |