1584.
¶The Crocadile with fained teares,
The Fisher not so oft beguiles:
As thou hast luld my simple eares,
To here sweet words full fraught with wiles,
that I may say, as I do prooue,
VVo worth the time, I gan to loue.
¶Sith thou hast vowd to worke my wrack
And hast no will my wealth to way:
Farewell vnkinde, I will keepe backe,
Such toyes as may my helth decay:
and still will cry as I haue cause.
Fie vpon Loue and all his lawes.
The Louer being wounded with his Ladis beutie, requireth mercy.
To the tune of Apelles.
He liuelie sparkes of those two eyes,
my wounded hart hath set on fire:
And since I can no way deuise,
To stay the rage of my desire,
with sighs and trembling tears I craue
my deare on me some pitie haue.
¶In vewing thee, I tooke such ioy,
As one that sought his quiet rest:
Vntill I felt the fethered boy,
Ay flickring in my captiue brest:
Since that time loe, in deepe dispaire,
all voide of ioy, my time I weare.
¶The wofull prisoner Palemon.
And Troylus eke kinge Pyramus sonne,
Constrained by loue did neuer mone:
As I my deer for thee haue done.
Let pitie then requite my paines,
My life and death in thee remaines.
