¶ A craggie Rocke, thy Cradle, was, And Tigers milke sure was thy foode. +(15) Wherby Dame Nature broought to passe, That like the Nurse should be thy moode: Wild and vnkinde, cruell and fell, to rent the hart that loues thee well. ¶ The Crocadile with fained teares, +(20) The Fisher not so oft beguiles: As thou hast luld my simple eares. To here sweet words, full fraught with wiles, that I may say, as I doo prooue, Wo worth the time, I gan to loue. (25) ¶ Sith thou hast vowd to worke my wrack, And hast no will my wealth to way:Farewell vnkinde, I will keepe backe, Such toyes as may my helth decay: and still will cry as I haue cause. (30) Fie vpon Loue and all his lawes.
The Louer being wounded with his Ladis
beutie requireth mercy. +
To the tune of Apelles. +
T He liuelie sparkes of those two eyes, +my wounded hart hath set on fire: And since I can no way deuise, To stay the rage of my desire, (5) with sighs and trembling tears I craue my deare on me some pitie haue. ¶ In vewing thee, I tooke such ioy, As one that sought his quiet rest: Untill I felt the fethered boy, +