A ieasting curse

FIE vpon that too much beauty,
That so blindeth reasons seeing,
As, in swearing all loues duety,
Giues him, no where else, a beeing.

Cursed be thou all in kindnesse,
That with beauty, loue hast wounded;
Blessing loue, yet in such blindenesse,
As in beautie is confounded.

Euer maist thou liue tormented,
With the faith of loue vnfained,
Till thy heart may be contented
To relieue whom thou hast pained.

Thus, in wroth of so well pleased,
As concealeth ioyes confessing,
Till my paine be wholly eased,
Cursed be thou, all in blessing.

So farewell, and fairely note it;
He, who as his soule doth hate thee,
From his very heart hath wrote it,
Neuer euill thought come at thee.