[sig. Diiiv]
For when the harme is fixed, and rooted in the hart, No tongue can tell, nor pen may write, how greuous is the smartI haue thought loue but play, vntill I felte the sore, (20) But now I felte a thousand greefes I neuer felt before. To tell what paynes I bide, if that I could deuise, I tel the truth, beleeue mee wel, the day will not suffise Graunt now therfore some rest, since thus thou hast mee bound, To be thine owne, til body mine, lye buried vnder ground.
FINIS.
¶ The Louer hauing his beloued in suspition declareth his doutfull minde. +
D Eeme as ye list vpon good cause Yee may, and thinke of this or that, But what, or why, my selfe best knowes, Wherby I thinke and feare not. (5) Wherunto I may wel likeThe doubtful sentence of this clause I would ye were not as I thinke I would I thought it were not so.