(5) Let hungry Wolues by dogges to death be torne, And Lambes reioyce, with passed Winter wearie. Let euery Riuers Ferrie. In waters flow, and siluer streames abounding, And fortune, ceaselesse wounding. (10) Turne now thy face, so cruell and vnstable, Be firme and fauourable. And thou that kill’st our soules with thy preten-||(ces: Molest not (wicked Loue) my inward sences.
Let Country plainenesse liue in ioyes not ended, (15) In quiet of the desert Meades and mountaines, And in the pleasure of a Country dwelling Let Shepheards rest, that haue distilled fountaines Of teares: proue not thy wrath, + all paines excelling, Vpon poore soules, that neuer haue offended. (20) Let thy flames be incendedIn haughty Courts, in those that swim in treasure, And liue in ease and pleasure. And that a sweetest scorne (my wonted sadnes) A perfect rest and gladnes (25) And hills and Dales, may giue me: with offences Molest not (wicked Loue) my inward sences.
In what law find’st thou, that the freest reason And wit, vnto thy chaines should be subiected, And harmelesse soules vnto thy cruell murder? (30) O wicked Loue, the wretch that flieth furderFrom thy extreames, thou plagu’st. O false, suspected, And carelesse boy, that thus thy sweets doost season, O vile and wicked treason. Might not thy might suffice thee, but thy fuell