Synce love wyll nedes that I shall love

Synce love wyll nedes that I shall love,
Of very force I must agree :
And since no chance may it remove
In welth and in adversitie,
I shall alway my self apply
To serve and suffer paciently.

Though for good will I finde but hate,
And cruelty my life to wast,
And though that still a wretched state
Should pine my dayes unto the last :
Yet I professe it willingly
To serve and suffer paciently.

For since my hart is bound to serve,
And I not ruler of mine owne,
What so befall, till that I sterve.
By proofe full well it shall be knowne,
That I shall still myself apply
To serve and suffer paciently.

Yea though my grief flnde no redresse
But still increase before mine eyes :
Though my rewarde be cruelnesse
With all the harme, happe can devise :
Yet I professe it willingly
To serve and suffer paciently.

Yea though fortune her pleasant face
Should shew, to set me up aloft :
And streight my wealth, for to deface;
Should writhe away, as she doth oft :
Yet would I styll myself apply
To serve and suffer paciently.

There is no grief, no smart, no wo
That yet I fele, or after shall,
That from this mynde may make me go
And whatsoever me befall,
I do professe it willingly
To serve and suffer paciently.