Tottel sig. Ciiv

[sig. Ciiv]

(15) when she had lost the perfite mould, The like to whom she could not paint: with wringing handes how she did cry, And what she said, I know it, I. +I know, she swore with raging minde. (20) Her kingdome onely set apart, There was no losse, by law of kinde, That could haue gone so nere her hart. And this was chiefly all her paine: She could not make the like againe. (25) Sith nature thus gaue her the praise To be the chefest worke she wrought: In faith me think some better waies On your behalfe might wel be sought, Then to compare (as ye haue done) (30) To matche the candle with the sunne.

To the ladie that
scorned her
louer. +

A Lthough I had chek, +To giue the mate is hard, For I haue found a neck, To kepe mi men in gard. (5) And you that hardy are To giue so great assay, Unto a man of warre. To driue his men away: I rede you take good hede, (10) And marke this folish verse, For I will so prouide. That I wyll haue your ferse, And when your ferse is had, And all your warre is done, (15) Then shall your selfe be glad To ende that you begon, For if by chance I winne Your person in the felde: To late then come you in