But wo is mee, my wishes are in vayne, Adue delight? come crooked cursed care: To bluntish blockes (I see) I doo complayne, (130) And reape but onely sorrow for my share: For wel I know that Gods nor sprites can cure, The paynes that I for Gruffith doo endure. Since wayling, no way can remedy mee, To make an ende, I therfore iudge it best: (135) And drinke vp all, my sorrow secretly, And as I can, I will abide the rest: And sith I dare not mourne, to open showe, With secret sighes and teares, my hart shall flow. Some busie brayne, perhaps will aske my name, (140) Disposed much, some tidings for to marke: That dare I not? for feare of flying fame, And eke I feare least byting bugs will barke: Therfore farewell, and aske no more of mee, For (as I am) a Louer will I dye.