Since that by lot of fantasy, This carefull knot nedes knit I must. Mistrust me not, though some there be, (10) That faine would spot my stedfastnesse: Beleue them not, sins that ye se, The proofe is not, as they expresse. Forsake me not, till I deserue: Nor hate me not, till I offend. (15) Destroy me not, till that I swerue. But sins ye know what I intend: Disdaine me not that am your own: Refuse me not that am so true: Mistrust me not till all be known: (20) Forsake me not, now for no new.
The louer lamenteth his estate
with sute for grace. +
F Or want of will, + in wo I plain: Under colour of sobernesse. Renewing with my sute my pain, My wanhope with your stedfastnesse. (5) Awake therfore of gentlenesse. +Regard at length, I you require, My swelting paines of my desire. Betimes who giueth willingly, Redoubled thankes aye doth deserue. +(10) And I that sue vnfainedly, In frutelesse hope (alas) do sterue. How great my cause is for to swerue: And yet how stedfast is my sute: Lo, here ye see, where is the frute? (15) As hound that hath his keper lost, Seke I your presence to obtain: In which my hart deliteth most, And shall delight though I be slain. You may release my band of pain. (20) Lose then the care that makes me cry, For want of helpe or els I dye.