To plead my faith where faith had no reward,
To move remorse where favor is not borne,
To heap complaints where she doth not regard, -
Were fruitless, bootless, vain, and yield but scorn.

I lovéd her whom all the world admired,
I was refused of her that can love none;
And my vain hopes, which far too high aspired,
Is dead, and buried, and for ever gone.

Forget my name, since you have scorned my love,
And woman-like do not too late lament;
Since for your sake I do all mischief prove,
I none accuse nor nothing do repent.

I was as fond as ever she was fair,
Yet loved I not more than I now despair.