Tottel sig. Iiv

[sig. Iiv]

Yet for all that a stormy blast (10) Had ouerturnde this goodly nay: And fortune semed at the last, That to her promise she said day. But like as one out of dispayre To sodain hope reuiued I. (15) Now fortune sheweth her selfe so faire, That I content me wondersly. My most desire my hand may reach: My wyll is al way at my hand. Me nede not long for to beseche (20) Her, that hath power me to commaunde. What earthly thing more can I craue? What would I wishe more at my will? Nothing on earth more would I haue, Saue that I haue, to haue it styll. (25) For fortune now hath kept her promesse, In graunting me my most desire. Of my soueraigne I haue redresse, And I content me with my hire. +

The louer complaineth the vn-
kindnes of his loue. +

M Y lute awake performe the last Labour that thou and I shal wast: And end that I haue now begonne: And when this song is song and past: (5) My lute be stil for I haue done. As to be heard where eare is none: As lead to graue in marble stone: +My song may pearse her hart as sone. +Should we then sigh? or singe, or mone? (10) No, no, my lute for I haue done, The rockes do not so cruelly Repulse the waues continually, As she my sute and affection: So that I am past remedy, (15) Wherby my lute and I haue done. Proude of the spoile that thou hast gotte