How oft have I, my dere and cruell foo

How oft have I, my dere and cruell foo,
With those your lyes, for to get peace and truyse,
Profferd you myn herte but you do not use
Emong so high thinges to cast your mynde so lowe.

Yf any othr loke for it, as ye trowe.
There vayn weke hope doeth greately them abuse :
And thus I disdain that that ye refuse :
It was ons myn it can no more be so.

Yf I then it chase, nor it in you can fynde
In this exile no manner of comfort :
Nor lyve alone nor where he is called resort;

He may wander from his naturall kynd.
So shall it be great hurt unto us twayn.
And yowres the losse and myn the dedly pain.