Menaphon’s Song

Some say Loue
Foolish Loue
Doth rule and gouerne all the Gods,
I say Loue,
Inconstant Loue
Sets mens senses farre at ods.

Some sweare Loue
Smooth’d face Loue
Is sweetest sweete that men can haue:
I say Loue,
Sower Loue
Makes vertue yeeld as beauties slaue.

A bitter sweete, a follie worst of all
That forceth wisedome to be follies thrall

Loue is sweete,
Wherein sweete?
In fading pleasures that doo paine.
Beautie sweete.
Is that sweete
That yeeldeth sorrow for a gaine?

If Loues sweete,
Heerein sweete
That Minutes ioyes are monthlie woes.
Tis not sweete,
That is sweete
Nowhere, but where repentance growes.

Then loue who list if beautie be so sower:
Labour for me, Loue rest in Princes bower.