And plaing, where I shall him finde with his faire little sonne +So, forth I go apace to se that leefsome sight, And with a kisse, me thinke, I say, welcome my lord, my knight. (25) Welcome my swete, alas, the stay of my welfare. Thy presence bringeth forth a truce atwixt me, and my care, Then liuely dothe he loke, and salueth me againe, And saith, my dere how is it now, that you haue al this raine? wherewith the heauy cares, that heapt are in my brest, (30) Breake forth + and me dischargen clene of all my huge vnrest. But when I me awake, and finde it but a dreme, The anguish of my former wo beginneth more extreme, And me tormenteth so that vnneath may I finde Some hidden place, wherin to slake the gnawing of my minde, (35) Thus euery way you se, with absence how I burn, And for my wound no cure I finde, but hope of good return Saue when I thinke, by sowre how swete is felt the more, It doth abate some of my paines, that I abode before, And then vnto my self I say, when we shall mete. (40) But little while shall seme this paine, the ioy shall be so swete, Ye windes I you coniure in chiefest of your rage, That ye my Lord safely sende, my sorowes to asswage, And that I may not long abide in this excesse, Do your good will, to cure a wight, that liueth in distresse.
A praise of his loue wherein he
reproueth them that compare
their Ladies with his. +
G Eue place ye louers, here before That spent your bostes and bragges in vaine, My Ladies beauty passeth more The best of yours, I dare wel sayen, (5) Then doth the sonne, the candle light, Or brightest day, the darkest night, +And therto hath a troth as iust, As had Penelope the faire, For what she saith, ye may it trust. (10) As it by writing sealed were, And vertues hath she many moe, Than I with pen haue skill to show. I could reherse, if that I wold The whole effect of natures plaint,