1584.]
¶If for offence or fault,
I had been floong at heele:
The lesse had been my bitter smart,
and gnawing greefe I feele.
¶But being once reteind,
a friend by her consent:
And after that to be disdaind,
when best good will I ment,
¶I take it nothing well,
for if my power could show,
With Larum bel and open crie,
the world should throughly know,
The complaint of a woman Louer,
To the tune of. Raging loue.
Hough wisdom wold I shold refrain,
My heaped cares here to vnfold:
Good Ladies yet my inward paine,
So pricketh me I haue no holde:
But that I must my griefe bewray,
Bedewed in teares with doleful tunes,
That you may heare, and after say,
Loe, this is she whom loue consumes.
¶My grief doth grow by my desire.
To fancie him that stormes my woe:
He naught regards my flaming fire,
Alas why doth he serue me so?
Whose fained teares I did beleeue,
And wept to heare his wailing voice,
But now, alas, too soon I preeue
Al men are false, there is no choice.
¶Had euer woman such reward,
At anie time for her goodwill?
Had euer woman hap so hard,
