¶ The Louer greeuously complayneth agaynst the vniust
dealing of his Lady beloued. +
S Ince thou vniust, hast caught a lust, To plough in barrayne ground: Who long thee loue, hee shall thee proue, Mutch better lost then found.
(5) As brickle clay, in Winters day, That in the frost is wrought, So doo I finde, thy double minde, Mutch better solde then bought.
It is as eefe, a broken Syue, (10) Should holde the dropping rayne: As for to binde, thy chaunged minde, That nought can doo but fayne.
So may I say, both night and day, Cursing the time and place: (15) Where I profest, to loue thee best, Whose troth I finde so scace.
Whose lyinge wordes, and faigned bourdes, Did mee so far enchayne: When thou didst flyt, by chaunged wit. (20) That I could not refraine.
But of my hart, to ease the smart, The best redresse I know: Is to vntwinde, my constant minde, And let sutch fansies goe.