I FIND no peace, and all my war is done;
I fear and hope, I burn, and freeze like ice;
I fly alofte, yet can I not arise;

And noughte I have, and all the worlde I seize on,
That lockes nor loseth, holdeth me in prisone,
And holdes me not, yet can I scape no wise :
Nor letteth me live, nor die, at my devise,
And yet of deathe it giveth me occasion.
Without eye I see; without tongue I plaine :
I wish to perish, yet I aske for healthe;
I love another, and I hate myselfe;

I feede me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.
Lo, thus displeaseth me both death and life,
And my delighte is causer of this strife.

A LOVER COMPARETH HIS STATE TO A SHIP IN A STORM.

My galley charged with forgetfulness,

Through sharpe seas, in winter nightes, doth pass
"Tween rock and rock; and eke my foe, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness:
And every houre, a thoughte in readiness,

As though that deathe were lighte in such a case.
An endless winde doth tear the sail apace,
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness ;

A raine of teares, a cloude of darke disdaine,
Have done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathed with error, and with ignorance;
The stars be hid that lead me to this paine:
Drowned is reasone that shoulde be my comforte,
And I remaine, despairing of the porte.

OF DOUBTFUL LOVE.

ARISING the bright beams of those faire eyes,

Where he abides that mine oft moistens and washeth;
The wearied minde straighte from the hearte departeth,
To rest within his wordly paradise,

And bitter findes the sweet, under his guise.

What webs there he hath wroughte, well he perceiveth:
Whereby then with himself on love he plaineth,
That spurs with fire, and bridleth eke with ice.
In such extremity thus is he broughte:

Frozen now colde, and now he standes in flame :
"Twixt woe and wealthe, betwixt earnest and game,
With seldom glad, and many a diverse thought,
In sore repentance of his hardiness,
Of such a root, lo, cometh fruit fruitless.

THE LOVER ABUSED, RENOUNCETH LOVE.

My love to scorne, my service to retaine,
Therein, methoughte you used crueltie;
Since with good will, I loste my libertie,
To followe her which causeth all my paine.
Might never woe yet cause me to refraine;
But only this, which is extremitie,

To give me noughte, alas, nor to agree.
That, as I was, your man I mighte remaine :

But since that thus ye list to order me,

That woulde have been your servant true and faste :
Displease you not, my doting time is past;
And with my loss to leave I must agree:
For as there is a certain time to rage,
So is there time such madness to assuage.

EVER my hap is slack and slow in coming,
Desire increasing, aye my hope uncertaine
With doubtful love, that but increaseth pain;
For, tiger like, so swift it is in parting.
Alas! the snow black shall it be and scalding,
The sea waterless, and fish upon the mountaine,
The Thames shall backe return unto his fountaine,
And where he rose the sun shall take lodging,
Ere I in this find peace or quietness;

Or that love, or my Ladye, right wisely,
Leave to conspire against me wrongfully.
And if I have after such bitterness,

One drop of sweet, my mouth is oute of taste,
That all my truste and travaile is but waste.

LOVE, Fortune, and my minde, which doe remember
Eke that is now, and that, that once hath beene,
Torment my hearte so sore, that very often
I hate and envie them beyond all measure.
Love slayeth mine heart, while Fortune is depriver
Of all my comforte; the foolish mind then
Burneth and plaineth, as one that very seldome
Liveth in rest. So still in displeasure

My pleasant days they fleet and pass;

And daily doth mine ill change to the worse:
While more than half is run now of my course.
Alas, not of steel, but of brittle glass,

I see that from my hand falleth my trust,
And all my thoughts are dashed into dust.

A LOVER PRAYETH HIS OFFERED HEART TO BE RECEIVED.

How ofte have I, my deare and cruel foe,

With my greate paine to get some peace or truce,
Given you my hearte; but you do not use

In so high thinges, to cast your mind so low.
If any other look for it, as you trow,

Their vain weak hope doth greatly them abuse:
And that thus I disdaine, that you refuse;

It was once mine, it can no more be so.
If you it chafe, then it in you can finde,
In this exile, no manner of comforte,
Nor live alone, nor where he is called resort;
He may wander from his natural kinde.

So shall it be greate hurte unto us twain,
And yours the loss, and mine the deadly paine.

A LOVER'S LIFE COMPARED TO THE ALPS.

LIKE unto these unmeasureable mountaines
So is my painful life, the burden of ire;
For high be they, and high is my desire;
And I of tears, and they be full of fountaines:
Under craggy rocks they have barren plaines;
Harde thoughtes in me my woful minde doth tire:
Small fruit and many leaves their tops do attire,
With small effect great trust in me remains:
The boisterous winds oft their high boughs do blast;
Hot sighs in me continually be shed:

Wild beasts in them, fierce love in me is fed;
Unmovable am I, and they stedfast.

Of singing birds they have the tune and note;
And I alwaies plaintes passing through my throat.

CHARGING HIS LADYE AS UNPITEOUS.

IF amorous faith, or if a hearte unfeigned,
A sweete languor, a greate lovely desire,
If honeste will kindled in gentle fire,
If long error in a blinde maze chained,
If in my visage each thought distained,
Or if my sparkling voice, lower, or higher,
Which feare and shame so wofully doth tire ;
If pale coloure, which love, alas, hath stained,
If to have another than myselfe more dear,
If wailing or sighing continually,
With sorrowful anger feeding busily,
If burning far off, and if freezing neare,
Are cause that I by love myself destroy,
Yours is the fault, and mine the great annoy.

My hearte I gave thee, not to doe it paine,
But to preserve, lo, it to thee was taken.
I served thee, not that I shoulde be forsaken;
But, that I should receive rewarde againe,
I was content thy servante to remaine;
And not to be repayed on this fashion.

Now, since in thee there is none other reasone,
Displease thee not, if that I doe refraine.
Unsatiate of my woe, and thy desire;
Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault :
But, since it pleaseth thee to feign default,
Farewell, I say, departing from the fire.

For he that doth believe, bearing in hande,
Plougheth in the water, and soweth in the sande.