Tottel sig. Ciiiir

[sig. Ciiiir]

To thinke me not the furst, That loue hath set aloft, (40) And casten in the dust.

The louer describes his
restlesse state. +

A S oft as I behold and see The soueraigne beauty that me bounds; The nyer my comfort is to me, Alas the fressher is my wound. (5) As flame doth quench by rage of fire, And runnyng stremes consume by raine: So doth the sight, that I desire, Appease my grief and deadly payne. +First when I saw those cristall streames, (10) Whose beauty made my mortall wound: I little thought within her beames So swete a venom to haue found. But wilfull will did prick me forth, And blinde Cupide did whippe and guide: (15) Force made me take my grief in worth: My fruteles hope my harme did hide. As cruel waues full oft be found, Against the rockes to rore and cry: So doth my hart full oft rebound (20) Against my brest full bitterly. I fall, and see mine owne decay, As one that beares flame in his brest, Forgets in payne to put away, The thing that bredeth mine vnrest.

The louer excuseth himself
of suspected change. +

T Hough I regarded not The promise made by me, Or passed not to spot My faith and honestee: