GorgeousGallery sig. Biir

[sig. Biir]

The happy life I held, and lost therewith thy sight, Well mayst thou wayle thy want of troth: & rue thy great vnrightIf thou be found to fayle thy vow that thou hast sworne Or that one iot of my good will, out of thy minde be worne. (75) Or if my absence long: to thy disgrace hath wrought mee Or hindering tales of my back freends: vnto such state hath brought ||( mee. I can and will accurse the cause of my ill speede: But well, I hope, my feare is more: then is the thing indeede. Yet blame mee not though I doo stand somewhat in feare (80) The cause is great of my exile, which hardly I do beare. Who hath a sternles ship amidst the trustles Seaes, +Full greedely desires the porte: where hee may ride at ease. Thy bewty bids mee trust, vnto thy promise past, My absence longe and not to speake: doth make mee doubt as fast. (85) For as the sommers sonne, doth make eche thing to spring: Euen so the frosen winters blast, as deadly doth them wring. Unsuer thus I liue in dreade I wot not why Yet was there neuer day so bright, but there be cloudes in sky. Who hath of puer Golde, a running streame or flud(90) And is restraind for comming nigh, this treasure great and good. Hee must abide a time: till Fortune graunt him grace, That hee haue power by force to win: his riche desired place. I neede not thus to doo: nor yet so much mistrust, I know no time can change thy minde: or make thee bee vniust. (95) No more then water soft, can stir a stedfast rocke: Or seely flyes vpon their backes can beare away a blocke. Eche beast on earth wee see: that liuing breath doth draw, Bee faythfull found vnto their mates: and keepes of loue the law. My wretched life to ease: when I doo seke to turne, (100) Thy bewty bright doth kindle mee, in greater flame to burne. No day, no night, nor time, that geues mee mirth or rest, Awake, asleape, and at my meales, thou doost torment my brest. Though weary lothsome lyfe: in care and wo haue clad mee, Remembrance of thy heauenly face, giues cause again to glad mee. (105) Thus Ioyfull thoughtes a while, doth lessen much my payne But after calme and fayer tides, the stormes do come agayne.