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Thoughts, hopes, and loue, returne to me no more, Till Cinthia shine, as she hath done before.

FINIS. ¶These three ditties were taken out of Maister
Iohn Dowlands booke of tableture for the
Lute, the Authours names not there set downe,
and therefore left to their owners.

Montanus Sonnet in the woods. +

A Las, how wander I amidst these Woods, Whereas no day bright shine doth finde accesse? But where the melancholy fleeting floods, (Darke as the night) my night of woes expresse, (5) Disarm’d of reason, spoyl’d of Natures goods, Without redresse to salue my heauinesse I walke, whilst thought (too cruell to my harmes,) With endlesse griefe my heedlesse iudgement charmes.
My silent tongue assail’d by secret feare, (10) My trayterous eyes imprison’d in their ioy: My fatall peace deuour’d in fained cheere, My heart enforc’d to harbour in annoy. My reason rob’d of power by yeelding care, My fond opinions, slaue to euery ioy. (15) Oh Loue , thou guide in my vncertaine way: Woe to thy bowe, thy fire, the cause of my decay.