My faire swete foes, mine enemies, And earth doth hide her pleasant face. The loke which did my life vphold: (290) And all my sorowes did confound: With which more blisse then may be told: Alas, now lieth it vnder ground But cease, for I will sing no more: Since that my harme hath no redresse: (295) But as a wretche for euermore, My life will waste with wretchednesse. And ending this my wofull song, Now that it ended is and past: I would my life were but as long: (300) And that this word might be my last. For lothsome is that life (men say) That liketh not the liuers minde: Lo, thus I seke mine own decay, And will, till that I may it finde.
Of his loue named white. +
F Ull faire and white she is, and White by name: Whose white doth striue, the lillies white to staine: Who may contemne the blast of blacke defame: who in darke night, can bring day bright againe. (5) The ruddy rose inpreaseth with cleare heew, In lips and chekes, right orient to behold: That the nerer gaser may that bewty reew, And fele disparst in limmes the chilling cold: For White, all white his bloodlesse face will be: (10) The asshy pale so alter will his cheare. But I that do possesse in full degree The harty loue of this my hart so deare: So oft to me as she presents her face, For ioy do feele my hart spring from his place.