The Louer abused renownceth Loue

FOr to reuoke to pensiue thought
And troubled head my former plight,
How I by earnest sute haue sought
And griefull paines a louing Wight
For to accoy, accoy,
And bréede my ioy
Without anoy, makes saltish bryne
To flush out of my vapord eyne.

To thinke vpon the sundrie snares
And priuie Panthers that were led
To forge my daylie dolefull cares,
Whereby my hoped pleasures fled,
Doth plague my hart, my hart,
With deadly smart,
Without desart, that haue indurde
Such woes, and am not yet recurde,

Was neuer day came on my hed
Wherein I did not sue for grace,
Was neuer night but I in bed
Vnto my Pillow tolde my case,
Bayning my brest, my brest,
For want of rest,
With teares opprest, yet remedie none
Was to be found for all my mone.

If she had dained my good will
And recompenst me with hir Loue,
I would haue béene hir Vassell still,
And neuer once my hart remoue:
I did pretend, pretend,
To be hir Friend
Vnto the end, but she refusde
My louing hart, and me abusde.

I did not force vpon the spite
And venemous stings of hissing Snakes,
I wayed not their words a Mite,
That such a doe at Louers makes:
I did reioyce, reioyce,
To haue the voyce
Of such a choyce, and smild to sée
That they reported so of mée.

Oh mée most luckie Wight (quoth I)
At whome the people so repine,
I trust the rumor that doth flie
Will force hir to my will incline,
And like well mée, well mée
Whome shee doth sée,
Hir loue to bée, vnfainedly,
In whome shée may full well affie.

But now at length I plainely vew
That woman neuer gaue hir brest,
For they by kindly course will rue
On such as seeme to loue them best:
And will relent, relent
And be content,
When nought is ment, saue friendly hart
And loue for neuer to depart.

Some cruell Tiger lent hir Te
And fostred hir with sauage Pap,
That can not finde in hart to let
A man to loue hir, since his hap
Hath so assignde, assignde
To haue his minde
To loue inclinde, in honest wise
Whome shée should not of right despise.

But since I sée hir stonie hart
Cannot be pierst with pitties Launce,
Since nought is gainde but wofull smart,
I doe intende to breake the daunce,
And quite forgo, forgo
My pleasaunt Fo,
That paines mée so, and thinkes in fine
To make me like to Circes Swine:

I cleane defie hir flattering face,
I quite abhorre hir luring lookes:
As long as Ioue shall giue mée grace
Shée neuer comes within my bookes,
I doe detest, detest
So false a Guest
That breedes vnrest, where she should plant
Hir loue, if pittie did not want.

Let hir go séeke some other Foole,
Let hir inrage some other Dolt:
I haue béene taught in Platos Schoole
From Cupids Banner to reuolt:
And to forsake, forsake
As fearefull Snake,
Such as doe make, a man but smart
For bearing them a faithfull hart.