Within the subtill seat, of her bright eyen doth dwell, Blinde Cupide with the pricke of paine: that princes fredom sell. A Paradice it is: her beauty to behold, (30) where natures stuffe so full is found, that natures ware is sold.
An old louer to a yong
Y E are to yong to bryng me in, And I to old to gape for flies: I haue to long a louer bene, If such yong babes should bleare mine eyes, (5) But trill the ball before my face, I am content to make you play: I will not se, I hide my face, And turne my backe and ronne away. +But if you folowe on so fast, (10) And crosse the waies where I should go, Ye may waxe weary at the last, And then at length your self orethrow. I meane where you and all your flocke, Deuise to pen men in the pound: (15) I know a key can picke your locke, And make you runne your selues on ground, Some birdes can eate the strawie corne, And flee the lime that fowlers set, And some are ferde of euery thorne, (20) And so therby they scape the net. +But some do light and neuer loke, And seeth not who doth stand in waite, As fish that swalow vp the hoke, And is begiled through the baite. +(25) But men can loke before they leape, +And be at price for euery ware, And penyworthes cast to bye good cheape, And in ech thyng hath eye and care. But he that bluntly runnes on hed, (30) And seeth not what the race shal be: Is like to bring a foole to bed, +And thus ye get no more of me. +