He sorrowes other to haue the fruites of his seruice

SOme men would looke to haue
a recompence of paine,
And Reason wills it so to be
vnlesse we list to faine:
Some would expect for loue
to haue vnfained hart,
And think it but a fit reward
for such a good defart.
But I (vnhappie Wight)
that spend my loue in vaine,
Doe séeke for succour at hir hands
while other get the gaine.
As thirstie ground doth gape
to swallow in the shoure:
Euen so fare I poore Harpalus
whome Cupids paines deuoure.
I holde the Hiue in hande
and paine my selfe thereby,
While other eate the hidden foods
that are not halfe so dry.
I plough the soyle with paine
and cast my seede thereon:
And other come that sheare the sheaues
and laugh when I am gon.
Mine is the Winters toile,
and theirs the Sommers gaine:
The Haruest falles out too their share
that felt no part of paine.
I beare the pinching yoke
and burden on my back,
And other driue when I must draw,
and thus I go to wrack.
I fast when other féede,
I thirst when other drinck:
I mourne when they triumph for ioy,
they swim when I must sinck.
They haue the hoped gaine
whiles I the losse indure:
They whole at hart, whilst I my griefe
by no meanes can recure.
They shrowd themselues in shade,
I sit in open Sunne:
They leape as Lambes in lustie Leaze,
I lie as one vndunne.
They taste their nightly rest,
my troubled head doth wake:
I tosse and turne from side to side
while they their pleasure take.
I would, but they enioy,
I craue that is debard,
They haue: what will you more I say?
their seruice is prefard.
Thus I procure my woe
by framing them their ioy:
In séeking how to salue my sore
I bréede my chiefe annoy.
So shéepe with wooll are clad
their Maisters haue the gaine,
So Birds doe builde their Nests on Brakes
and put themselues to paine,
But other taste the fruite
when so their broode is hatcht:
The Nest remaines, the Birds are gone,
the Chickens are dispatcht.
So Bées for Honnie toile
in fléeing too and fro,
And sillie wretches take great paines
for whome they little know.
I think it is procurde
by griesly Gods aboue
That some should gape, and other gaine
the fruit of others loue.
But sure if Womans will
be forger of my wo,
And not the mightie Gods ordaine
my destnie to be so:
Then must I néedes complaine
and cursse their cruell kinde,
That in requitall of good will
doe shew themselues vnkinde.
But whether be the cause,
hereafter I intende
To fawne on them that force on mée,
and bowe when other bende.
This one abuse shall make
me take the better héede
On whome I fixe my fansie fast,
or make a friend in déede.