Tottel sig. Biiiir

[sig. Biiiir]

So after raging stormes of care (30) Ioyfull at length may be my fare.

Complaint of the absence of
her louer being vpon
the sea. +

O Happy dames, that may embrace The frute of your belight, Help to bewaile the wofull case, And eke the heauy plight (5) Of me, that wonted to reioyce The fortune of my pleasant choyce: Good ladies, help to fill my moorning voyce. In ship, freight with remembrance Of thoughts, and pleasures past, +(10) He sailes that hath in gouernance My life, while it will last: With scalding sighes, for lack of gale, Furdering his hope, that is his sail +Toward me, the swete port of his auaile(15) Alas, how oft in dreames I see Those eyes that were my food, Which somtime so delited me, That yet they do me good. Wherwith I wake with his returne, (20) Whose absent flame did make me burne. But when I finde the lacke, Lord how I mourne? When other louers in armes acrosse, Reioyce their chiefe delight: Drowned in teares to mourne my losse, (25) I stand the bitter night, In my window, where I may see, Before the windes how the clowdes flee. Lo, what a Mariner loue hath made me. +And in grene waues when the salt flood (30) Doth rise by rage of winde: A thousand fansies in that mood Assaile my restlesse minde. Alas, now drencheth my swete fo, +That with the spoyle of my hart did go,