(10) Reward vpon his feete doth goe. What fooles are they that haue not knowne, That Loue likes no lawes but his owne?
My songs they be of Cinthias prayse, I weare her Rings on Holly-dayes, (15) On euery Tree I write her name, And euery day I reade the same. Where Honor, Cupids riuall is: There miracles are seene of his.
If Cinthia craue her ring of mee, (20) I blot her name out of the tree. If doubt doe darken things held deere: Then welfare nothing once a yeere. For many run, but one must win: Fooles onely hedge the Cuckoe in.
(25) The worth that worthines should moue, Is loue, which is the due of loue. And loue as well the Sheepheard can, As can the mightie Noble man. +Sweet Nimph tis true, you worthy be, (30) Yet without loue, nought worth to me.
¶ Another to his Cinthia. +
M Y thoughts are wingde with hopes, my hopes with loue, Mount loue vnto the Moone in cleerest night: And say, as shee doth in the heauens moue, On earth so waines and wexeth my delight. +(5) And whisper this but softly in her eares: Hope oft doth hang the head, and trust shed teares.