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SONNETS, &c.
IT was a Lording's Daughter, the fairest one of three
That liked of her Maister, as well as well might be,
Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest that eie could see,
Her fancy fell a turning.
Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight,
To leave the Maister lovelesse, or kill the gallant Knight.
To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite
Unto the silly damsel.
But one must be refused, more mickle was the paine;
That nothing could be used, to turne them both to gaine,
For of the two the trusty Knight was wounded with Disdaine,
Alas she could not help it.
Thus art with armes contending, was victor of the day,
Which by a gift of Learning, did bear the Maid away,
Then lullaby the learned Man hath got the Lady gay,
For now my song is ended.
That liked of her Maister, as well as well might be,
Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest that eie could see,
Her fancy fell a turning.
Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight,
To leave the Maister lovelesse, or kill the gallant Knight.
To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite
Unto the silly damsel.
But one must be refused, more mickle was the paine;
That nothing could be used, to turne them both to gaine,
For of the two the trusty Knight was wounded with Disdaine,
Alas she could not help it.
Thus art with armes contending, was victor of the day,
Which by a gift of Learning, did bear the Maid away,
Then lullaby the learned Man hath got the Lady gay,
For now my song is ended.
On
