1584.
Like a flie that doth hie,
and haste into the fire:
So in brief, findes her grief,
that thought to sport aspire.
¶When first I saw those Christal streams,
I little thought on beauties beams:
sweet venom to haue found,
But wilful wil did prick me foorth,
Perforce to take my grief in woorth,
that causd my mortall wound:
And Cupid blind compeld me so,
my fruitlesse hope to hide:
Wherein remaind my bitter wo:
thus stil he did me guide?
Then his dart, to my hart,
he slung with cruell fist:
Whose poison fel, I know right wel,
no louer may resist.
¶Thus vainly stil, I frame my sute,
Of ill sowen seeds, such is the frute,
experience doth it show:
The fault is hers the pain is mine,
And thus my sentence I define,
I hapned on a shrow:
And now beware, ye yongmen all,
Example take by mee:
Least beauties bait in Cupids thrall,
do catch you priuily:
So stay you, I pray you,
and marke you my great wrong,
Forsaken, not taken,
thus end I now my song.
