I seeke to Gaine, as by the second’s ment, An interest in this admired maruaile, But cannot finde a meane sufficient, (10) So hie a rated Gem + to counteruaile, There is no weight in fire ordaind to shine, Nor counterworth of any thing diuine.
The last doth giue me counsell to Retire, And rest content, that Loue hath blest my sight, (15) And toucht my fancie with th’immortall fire, Of this diuine, and precious Margaret, And thanke my fortune of exceeding fauour, As to be thralled to so sweete behauiour.
O See my hart, vncertaine what effect, +Shall finally ensue so high a scope, See what it is, a Master to neglect, To haue a Mistres entertaind on hope, (5) He whom it was thy fortune first to serue, As she doth now, could neuer see thee sterue.
There meanly lodg’d, yet mery were thy daies, Here, high conceited intermixt with feare, There, words and works all one, here great delaies, (10) There, things were in their kinde, here as they were, Thy hopes there small, but yet assured Loue, And here though great, God knowes if any proue.
Yet must I not discourage thine intent, All paines and torments suffred for hir sake, (15) May be in fine well answerd by euent, If so thy sute in time effect may take, But tell hir what thy former Master saies, Cursed is he that dieth through delaies.
T O make a truce, sweete Mistres with your eies, +How often haue I proffred you my hart,