I that in freedome liued of late,
And neuer stoupt to Cupids lure,
Haue now made change of my estate.
And thousand torments doe endure.
As late abrode I cast my lookes,
In fancies lune I fast was cought,
And beauty with her bayted hookes,
Hath me alas in bondage brought.
I loue, but lacke the thing I craue,
I liue, but want my chiefest good,
I hope, but hap I cannot haue,
I serue, but starue for want of foode.
Then so to loue, what state more yll?
Such life affoordes small time of ioy,
Such wauering hope doth often kill,
To serue and starue what worse anoy?
Yet wil I loue whiles life doth last,
And liue whiles any hope remaines,
And hope when dismal dayes are past,
To haue reward for all my paynes.
Loe thus I liue by hope sustaynd,
Yet through dispayre, die euery houre,
In sorow glad, in pleasure painde,
Now fed with sweete, now choakt with sowre.
Deare Dame in humble sort I sew,
Since mine estate to you is known,
Uoutsafe my dolefull case to rew,
And saue his life who is your owne.