1584.
¶Thus feed I fancie stil,
for lacke of greater ioy:
With such like thoughts, which daily doth,
my wofull heart annoy:
thus stil in hope I liue,
my wished ioies to haue:
And in dispaire oft time I wish,
my feeble Corps in graue.
¶This is the life I leade, til I thee see again
And so wil do, til dreadful death,
do seek to ease my paine,
whom rather I do wish, by force to end in wo,
than for to liue in happie state,
thy loue for to forgo.
¶And thus farewell my deer,
with whom my heart shall rest,
Remember him that this did write,
sith he doth loue thee best:
And wil til greedie death,
my daies do shorten now:
Farewel my dear, loe here my faith
and troth to thee I vow.
Finis.
The Louer compareth him self to the painful Falconer. To the tune, I loued her ouer wel.
He soaring hawk from fist that flies,
her Falconer doth constraine:
Sometime to range the ground vnknown,
to find her out againe:
And if by sight or sound of bell,
his falcon he may see:
Wo ho he cries, with cheerful voice,
the gladdest man is he.
