The Cōplaynte of a louers lyfe

[depiction of two people and tree]
IN maye whan flora the fresshe lusty quene
The soyle hath clad in grene rede & whyght
And phebus gan to shede his stremes shene
Amyd the bole with all the bemes bryght
And lucyfer to chace awaye the nyght
Ayenst the morowe our oryson hath take
To byd out of her slepe awake
¶ And hertes heuy for to reconforte
From sluggerdy and heuy nyghtes sorowe
Nature bad them ryse and dysporte
Agaynst the glad gray morowe
And hope also with saynt Iohan to borowe
Bad in dyspyte of daunger and dyspayre
For to take the holsome lusty ayre
¶ And with a syghe I gan for to abrayde
Out of my stombre and sodeynly out sterte
As he alas that nyghe for sorowe dyde
My sykenesse sate aye so nyghe myne herte
But for to fynde socoure smerte
Or at the leest some release of payne
That me full sore helde in euery vayne
¶ I rose me vp and thought I wyll anone
Unto the wood to here the byrdes synge
Whan that the mysty vapoure was agone
And clere and fayre was the mornynge
The dewe also lyenge lyke syluer in shynynge
Upon the leues as ony bawme swete
Tyll fyry tytan with his persaunt hete
¶ Had dryed vp the lusty lycoure newe
Upon the herbes in euery grene mede
[Page]And that the floures of many dyuers hewe
Upon theyr stalkes gan for to sprede
And for to splaye out theyr leues on brede
Ayenst the sonne golde borned in his spere
That downe to them caste his bemes clere
¶ And by a ryuer forth I gan costey
Of water clere as berell or crystall
Tyll at the last I founde a lytell way
Towarde a parke enclosed with a wall
In compas rounde and by a gate small
Who so wolde frely myght gone
In to this parke walled with grene stone
¶ And in I wente to here the byrdes songe
Whiche on the braunches bothe in playne & vale
So loude songe that all the worlde ronge
Lyke as it sholde shyuer in peces smale
And as me thought that the nyghtyngale
With so grete myght her voyce gan out wrest
Ryght as her hette for loue wolde brest
¶ The soyle was playne smothe & wonder softe.
All ouer spredde with tapetis that nature
Had made herselfe couloured eke alofte
With bowes grene the floures for to cure
That in her beaute they may not longe endure
Fro all assaute of phebus feruent fere
Whiche in his spere so hote is and so clere
¶ The ayre attempre and the smothe wynde
Of zephyrus amonge the blossomes whyte
So holsome was and so nourysshynge by kynde
That smale buddes and rounde blomes lyte
[...] [...]
In maner gan of her brethe delyte
To gyue vs hope the eyre fruyte shall take
Ayenst autompne redy for to shake
¶ I sawe there daphene closed vnder rynde
Grene laurere and the holsome pyne
The myrre also that wepeth euer of kynde
The cedrys hyghe as vpryght as a lyne
The phylberde eke that lowe doeth enclyne
Her bowes grene to the erthe downe
Unto her knyght I called demophowne
¶ There sawe I eke the fresshe hawthorne
In whyte moteley that so swete doeth smell
Asshe / fyrre / and oke / with many a yonge acorne
And many a tre mo than I can tell
And me before I sawe a lytell well
That had his course as I can beholde
Under an hyll with quycke stremes colde
¶ The grauell golde the water pure as glasse
The bankes rounde the well enuyronnynge
And softe as veluet the yonge grasse
That therupon lustely gan sprynge
The sute of trees aboute compassynge
Theyr shadowe caste closynge the well rounde
And all the herbes growynge on the grounde
The water was so holsome and so vertuus
Thrughe myght of herbes growynge besyde
That lyke the well where as nareyus
Slayne was thrughe vengeaunce of cupyde
Where so couertely he dyde hyde
The grennes of dethe vpon eche brynke
[Page]That dethe myght folowe who that euer drynke
¶ Ne lyke the pytte of the pegate
Under pernase where poetes slepte
Nor lyke the well of chastyte
Whiche dyane with her uymphes kepte
Whan she naked in to the water lepte
That slewe Acteon with his handes fell
Onely for he came so nyghe the well
¶ But this well that I here reherse
So holsome was that it wolde aswage
Swollen hertes and the venym perysshe
Of pensy shede with all the cruell rage
And euermore refresshe the vysage
Of them that were in ony weryuesse
Of grete laboure or fall [...]n in dystresse
¶ And I yt had thrughe daunger and dysdayne
So drye a thyrste thought I wolde assaye
To taste a draught of this well or twayne
My bytter langoure yf it myght alaye
And on che banke anone downe I laye
And with myne heed in to the well I raught
And of the water I dranke a good draught
¶ Wherof me thought I was refresshed wele
Of the brennynge that sate so nyghe my herte
That veryly anone I gan to [...]ele
An huge parte released of my smarte
And therwithall anone vp I sterte
And thought I wolde walke and se more
yet forth in the Parke and in the holtes hore
¶ And thrughe a launde as I yede apace A louers lyfe.
[Page]I gan aboute faste to beholde
I founde anone a delectable place
That was beset with trees yonge and olde
Whose names here for me shall not be tolde
Amyd of whiche stode an herber grene
That benched was with turues newe and clene
¶ This herber was full of floures rynde
In to the whiche as I beholde gan
Bytwene an [...]re and a woodbynde
As I was ware I sawe where laye a man
In blacke and whyte coulre pale and wan
And wonder deely also his hewe
Of hurtes grene and fresshe woundes newe
¶ And euermore destreyned with sykenesse
Besyde as this he was greuosly
For vpon hym he had a hote accesse
That daye by daye hym shoke full pyteously
So that for constreynynge of his malady
And hertely wo thus lyenge all alone
It was a dethe for to se hym grone
¶ Wherof astonyed my fote I gan withdrawe
Gretely wonderynge what it myght be
That he so laye and had no felawe
Ne that I coude no wyght with hym se
Wherof I had [...]uth and eke pyte
I gan anone so softely as I coude
Amonge the busshes me preuely to shroude
¶ yf that I myght in ony wyse espye
What was the cause of his deedly wo
Or why that he so pyteously gan crye
[Page]On his fortune and on his feuer also
With all my myght I layde myne ere to
Euery worde to marke what he sayde
Out of his swowne amonge as he brayde
¶ But fyrst yf I shall make mencyon
Of his persone and playnly hym dyscryue
He was in sothe without ony excepcyon
To speke of manhode one of the best alyue
There maye no man agaynst trouth stryue
For of his tyme and of his age also
He proued was there men sholde haue ado
¶ For one of the best there of brede and length
So well made by good proporcyon
yf he had be in his delyuer strength
But thought and sykenesse were occasyon
That he thus laye in lamentacyon
Grouelynge on the grouude in place desolate
Sole by hymselfe awaked and mate
¶ And for me semeth that it is syttynge
His wordes all to put in remembraunce
To me that herde all his complaynynge
And all the grounde of his wofull chaunce
yf there withall I may do pleasaunce
I wyll to you so as I can anone
Lyke as he sayd reherse euerychone
¶ But who shall helpe me nowe to complayne
Or who shall nowe my style guyde or lede
Of Niobe lette nowe the teres rayne
In to my penne and eke helpe in this nede
Thou wofull myrre that felest my herte blede
[Page]Of pyteous we and my honde eke quake
Whan that I wryte for this mannes sake
¶ For vnto wo accordeth complaynynge
And dolefull chere vnto heuynesse
To sorowe also syghynge and wepynge
And pyteous mournynge vnto drerynesse
And who that shall wryte of dystresse
In partye [...]e [...]eth to knowe felyngely
Cause and rote of all suche malady
¶ But I alas that am of wytte but dull
And haue no knowynge of suche matere
For to dyscryue and wryte at the full
The wofull complaynte whiche that ye shall here
But euen lyke as doeth a skryuenere
That can no more what that he shall wryte
But as his mayster besyde doeth endyte
¶ Ryght so fare I that of no sentemente
Saye ryght nought as in conclusyowne
But as I herde whan I was presente
This man complayned with a pyteons sowne
For euen lyke without addycyowne
Or dysencrease eyther more or lesse
For to reherse anone I wyll me dresse
¶ And yf that ony nowe be in this place
That fele in loue brennynge or feruence
Or hyndred were to his ladyes grace
With false tongues that with pestylence
Sle true men that neuer dyd offence
In worde ne dede ne in theyr entente
Yfony suche be here now presente
¶ Let hym of reuth laye to audyence
With dolefull chere and sobre countenaunce
To here this man by full sentence
His mortall wo and his perturbaunce
Complaynynge nowe lyenge in a traunce
With loke vp cast and rewfull chere
The fytte of whiche was as ye shall here
¶ The thought oppressed wt inwarde syghes sore
The paynfull lyfe the body languysshynge
The wofull goost the herte rente and and tore
The pyteous chere pale in complaynynge
The deedly face lyke asshes in shynynge
The salteteeres that fro myne eyen shall
Percell declare grounde of my paynes all
¶ Whose herte is grounde to blede on heuynesse
The thought receyte of wo and of complaynte
The brest is chest of dole and drerynesse
The body eke so feble and so feynte
With hote and colde myne acces is so meynte
That nowe I shyuer for defaute of hete
And hote as glede nowe sodeynly I swete
¶ Nowe hote as fyre nowe colde as asshes dede
Nowe hote for colde for hete agayne
Nowe colde as yse nowe as coles rede
For hete I brenne and thus bytwene twayne
I passed am and all forcast in payne
So that my colde playnly as I fele
Of greuous colde is cause euerydele
This is the colde of inwarde hyghe dysdeyne
Colde of dyspyte and colde of cruell hate
[...] [...]
This is the colde that euer doeth busy payne
Ayenst trouth to fyght and make debate
This is the colde that wolde the fyre abate
Of true menynge alas the harde whyle
This is the colde that wyll me begyle
¶ For euer the better the trouth I mente
With all my myght faythfully to serue
With herte and all to be dylygente
The lesse thanke alas I gan deserue
Thus for my trouthe daunger doeth me sterue
For one that sholde my dethe of mercy let
Hath made dyspyte nowe his swerde to whet
¶ Ayenst me and his arowes to fyle
To take vengeaunce of wylfull cruelte
And tongues false thrughe theyr slyghty whyl▪
Hath begon a warre that wyll not stynted be
And false enuy of wrath and eunyte
Haue conspyred ayenste all rygh and lawe
Of theyr malyce that trouth shall be slawe
¶ And male bousche gan fyrst the tale tell
To selaunder trouthe of indygnacyon
And false reporte so loude range the bell
That mysbeleue and false suspeccyon
Haue trouth brought to his dampcyon
So that alas wrongefully he dyeth
And falsnes his place occupyeth
¶ And entred is in to trouthes loude
And hath therof the full possessyon
O ryghtfull god that fyrst the trouth founde
How may thou suffre suche oppressyon
[Page]That falshede haue iurysdyccyon
In trouthes ryght to sle hym gylteles
In his fraunchyse he may not lyue in pes
¶ Falsly accused and of his fone foriuged
Without answere whyle he was absente
He dampned was and may not be excused
For cruelte sate in iugemente
Of hastynes without aduysemente
And bad dysdayne do execute anone
His Jugemente in presence of his fone
Attourney none ne may admytted bene
To excuse trouthe a worde to speke
To fayth or othe the iuge lust not to sene
There is no gayne but he wyll be wreke
O lorde of trouth to the I call and clepe
How may thou se this in thy presence
Without mercy murdred innocence
¶ Now god that arte of trouth souerayne
And seest how I lye for trouthe bounde
So sore I knytte in loues fyry chayne
Euen at ye deth thrughe gyrte wt many a wound▪
That lykely am neuer for to sounde
And for my trouthe am dampned to the dethe
And nought abyde but drawe alonge the breth▪
¶ Consyder and se in thyne eternall syght
How that my herte professed whylom was
For to be true with all my full myght
Onely to one the whiche now alas
Of volunte without more trespas
Myne accusers hath taken vnto grace
[Page]And cherysshed hym my deth for to purchace
¶ What m [...]eth this what is this wonder [...]re
Of puruey aunce yf I shall it call
Of god of loue that false hym so assure
And trewe alas adowne of the whele befall
And yet in sothe this is the [...]r [...]e of all
That falshede wrongefully of trouth hath ye name
And trouth ayenward us fa [...]ede bereth ye blame
This blynde chaunce this stormy aduenture
In loue hathe his moost experyence
For who that dothe with trouth moost his cure
Shall for his mede fynde moost offence
That serueth loue with all his dylygence
For who can feyne vnder louelyhede
Ne fayleth not to fynde grace and spede
¶ For I loued one full longe syth agone
With all my herte body and full myght
And to be deed my herte can not gone
Frome his hest but holde that he hath hyght
Thoughe I be banysshed out of her syght
And by her mouthe dampned that I shall dye
Unto my behest yet euer obey wyll I
¶ For euer syth that the worlde began
Who so lyst to loke and in story rede
He shall aye fynde that the true man
Was put abacke where as the falshede
Furthered was for loue taketh none hede
To sle the true and hath of hym no charge
Where as the false goeth frely at theyr large
¶ I take recorde of Palamydes
[Page]The true man the noble worthy knyght
That euer loued and of his payne no [...]eles
Not withstandynge his manhode and his myght
None vnto hym dyde full grete vnryght
For aye the better he dyde in cheualrye
The more he was hyndred by enuye
¶ And aye the better he dyde in euery place
Thrughe his hye knyghthode and busy payne
The ferther was he fro his ladyes grace
For to her mercy myght he neuer attayne
And to his dethe he coude it not refrayne
For to daunger but aye obey and serue
As he best coude playnly tyll he sterue
¶ What was the fyne also of Hercules
For all his conquest and worthynes
That was of strengthe alone pereles
For lyke as bokes lyste of hym expresse
He set pyllers thrughe his hye prowesse
Alwaye at gades for to sygnyfye
That no man myght hym passe in cheualrye
¶ The whiche pyles ben ferre be yonde ynde
Be set of golde for a rembraunce
And for all that was he set behynde
With them that loue lust febly to auaunce
For hym set last vpon a daunce
Ayenst whome helpe may not stryfe
For all his trouthe he lost his lyfe
¶ Phebus also for all his persaunte lyght
Whan that he wente here in erthe lowe
Unto the erthe with venus syght
[Page]I wounded was thrughe cupydes bowe
And yet his lady lyst hym not to knowe
Thoughe for her loue his herte dyde blede
She lete hym go and toke of hym none hede
¶ What shall I saye of yonge Pryamus
Of true Trystram for all his hyghe renowne
Of achylles or of antonyus
Of arcyte of hym palamowne
What was the ende of theyr passyowne
But after sorowe dethe and than theyr graue
Lo here the guardon that louers haue
¶ But false Jason with his doublenesse
That was vntrue at colcos to mede
And Terens rote of vnkyndnesse
And with these two eke the false Ene
Lo thus the false aye in one degre
Had in loue theyr lust and all theyr wyll
And saue falshede theyr was none other skyll
¶ Of thebes eke the false arcyte
And demophon eke for his slouth
They had theyr lust and all that myght delyte
For all theyr falshede and grete vntruth
Thus ener loue alas and that is ruth
His false legis furthereth what he may
And sleeth the true vngoodly day by daye
For true Adone was slayne with the bore
Amyd the forest in the grene shadowe
For venus loue he felte all the sore
But vulcanus with her no mercy made
The foule chorle and many nyghtes gladi
[Page]Where m [...]rs her knyght and her man
To fynde mercy conforte none he can
¶ Also the yonge fresshe Ipomones
So lusty fre and of his courage
That for to serue with all his herte he chese
Athalans so fayre of her vysage
But loue alas quyt hym so his wage
With cruell daunger playnly at the last
That with the dethe guardonles he past
¶ Lo here the fyne of louers seruyse
Lo how loue can his seruauntes quyte
Lo how he can his faythfull men dyspyse
To slee the true man and false to respyte
Lo how he doeth the swerde of sorowe byte
In hertes suche as must his lust obey
To saue the false and do the true to dey
¶ For faythe nor othe worde ne assuraunce
True menynge awayte or bulynesse
Styll porte ne faythfull attendaunce
Manhode ne myght in armes worthynesse
Pursuyte of worshyp nor hyghe prowesse
In strange londe rydynge ne trauayll
Full lytell or noght in loue doeth auayle
¶ Peryll of dethe neyther in see nor londe
Hunger ne thrust sorowe ne sykenesse
Ne grete empryses for to take on honde
Shedynge of blode ne manfull hardynesse
Nor ofte woundynge at sawtes by dystresse
Nor in partynge of lyfe and dethe also
All is for nought loue taketh no hede therto
[...] [...]
¶ But lesynges with her false flaterye
Thrughe her falshede and with her doublenesse
With tales newe and many feyned lye
By false semblaunce and counterfet humblesse
Under coloure depeynte with stedfastnesse
With fraude couered vnder a pyteous face
Accepte ben now rathest vnto grace
¶ And can themselfe now magnyfye
With feyned porte and presumpcyon
They chaunge her cause with false surquedrye
Under menynge of double entencyon
To thynke one in theyr opynyon
And say another to set themselfe alofte
And hynder trouthe as it is sene full ofte
¶ The whiche thynge I bye nowe all to dere
Thanked be venus and the god cupyde
As it is sene by myne oppressed chere
And by his arowes that stycken in my syde
Saue only the dethe I nothynge abyde
Fro daye to daye alas the harde whyle
Whan euer his darte that hym lyst to fyle
¶ My wofull herte for to ryue a two
For faute of mercy and lacke of pyte
Of her that causeth all my payne and wo
And lust not ones of grace for to se
Unto my trouthe thrughe her cruelte
And moost of all I me complayne
That she hathe Joye to laughe at my payne
¶ And wylfully hathe my dethe sworne
All gyltles and wote no cause why
[Page]Saufe for the [...] that I [...] afore
To her alone to [...] faythfully
O god of loue [...] the [...]
And to thy blynde double deyte
Of this grete wronge I complayne me
¶ And to thy stormy wylfull va [...]yaunce
Ymeynte with chaunge and grete vnstablenesse
Now vp now downe so [...]ennynge [...] thy chaunce
That the to truste may be no [...]
I wyte it nothynge but thy [...]
And who that is an archer and is blynde
Marketh nothynge but shoteth by [...]enynge
¶ And for that he hath no dyscrecyon
Without aduyse he letteth his [...]
For lacke of syght and also of reason
In his shotynge it happeth ofte so
To hurte his frende rather than his fo
So doeth this god with his sharpe [...]one
The true sleeth and letteth the fals gone
¶ And of his woundynge this is the worst of all
Whan he hurteth he doeth so cruell wreche
And maketh the seke for to crye and call
Unto his foo for to be his leche
And harde it is for a man to seche
Upon the poynte of dethe in Ieoperdye
Unto his foo to fynde remedye
Thus fareth it now euen by me
That to my foo that gaue my herte a wounde
Must aske grace mercy and pyte
And namely there none may be founde
[Page]For now my sore my leche wyll confounde
And god of kynde so hath [...] my [...]
My lyues foo to haue my wound [...] cure
¶ Alas the whyle now that I was borne
Or that I euer sawe the bryght sonne
For nowe I se that full longe aforne
Or I was borne my desteny was s [...]nne
By per [...]as susten to sle me yf they conne
For they my deth shap [...]n ere my sherte
Onely for [...] I may it not after [...]e
¶ The myghty goddes also of nature
That vnder god hath the gouernaunce
Of worldely thynges commytted to her cure
Dysposed hath thrughe her purueyaunce
To gyue my lady so moche [...]ysaunce
Of all vertues and therwithall puruyde
To murdre trouth hath taken daunger to guyde
¶ yf for bounte beaute shape and semelyhede
Prudence wytte passyngely fayrnesse
Benygne porte gladde chere with lowlyhede
Of womanhede ryght plenteous & largesse
Nature in her fully dyde empresse
whan she her wrought and all theyr last dysdayne
To hynder trouth she made her chaumberlayne
¶ Whan mystrust also and false suspeccyon
With mys [...]yleue she made for to be
Chefe of counseyll to this conclusyon
For to exyle trouth and eke pyte
But of her courte to make mercy fle
So that dyspyte now holleth forthe her reyne
[Page]Thrughe hasty beleue of tales that men feyne
¶ And thus I am for my trouthe alas
Murdred and slayne with wordes sharpe & kene
Gylteles god wote of all trespas
And lye and blede vpon this colde grene
Now mercy swete mercy my lyues quene
And to your grace of mercy yet I prey
In your seruyce that your man may dey
¶ But and so be that I shall dye algate
And that I shall none other mercy haue
Yet of my dethe let this be the date▪
That by your wyll I was brought to my graue
Or hastely yf that yelyste me saue
My sharpe woundes that ake so and blede
Of mercy charyte and also of womanhede
For other maner playnly is there none
But onely mercy to helpe in this case
For thoughe my wounde blede euer in one
My lyfe my dethe stondeth in your grace
And thoughe my gylte be nothynge alas
I aske mercy in all my best entente
Redy to dye yf that ye assente
For there agaynst shall I neuer stryue
In worde ne werke playnly I ne may
For leuer I haue than to be alyue
To dye sothely and it be to her pay
ye thoughe it be this eche same daye
Or whan that euer her lyst to deuyse
Suffyseth me to dye in your seruyse
¶ And god yt knowest ye thought of euery wyght
[Page]Ryght as it is in euery thynge thou mayst se
Yet or I dye with all my full myght
Lowly I praye to graunte vnto me
That ye goodly fayre fresshe and fre
Whiche sle me onely for defaute of ruthe
Or that I dye may knowe my truthe
¶ For that in sothe suffyseth me
And she it knowe in euery cyrcumstaunce
And after I am well apayed that she
Yf that her [...]u [...] of dethe to do vengeaunce
Unto me that am vnder her legeaunce
It sytte me not her dome to dysobeye
But at her lust wyfully to deye
¶ Without grutchynge or rebellyon
In wyll or worde hotely I assente
Or ony maner contradyccyon
Fully to be at her commaundemente
And yf I dye in my testamente
My herte I sende and my spyryte also
What someuer she lust with them to do
¶ And alder last to her womanhede
And to her mercy me I recommaunde
That lye nowe here bytwene hope and drede
Abydynge playnly what shelyst commaunde
For vtterly this is no demaunde
Welcome to me whyle me lasteth breth
Ryght at her choyle whether it be lyfe or dethe
In this matere more what myght I sayne
Syth in her honde and in her wyll is all
Bothe lyfe and dethe my Joye and all my payne
[Page]And fynally my herte holde I shall
Tyll by my spyryte by destenye fatall
Whan that her lust fro my body wende
Haue here my trouthe and thus I make an ende.

¶ Nota perseuerātiam. Amantis.

¶ And with that worde he can syghe as sore
Lyke as his herte wolde ryue a twayne
And helde his peas & spake not a worde more
But for to se his wo and mortall payne
The teeres gan fro myne eyen rayne
Full pyteously for very inwarde ruthe
That I hym sawe so languysshe for his truthe
¶ And all this whyle my selfe I kepte close
Amonge the bowes and my selfe gan hyde
Tyll at the last the wofull man arose
And to a lodge wente there besyde
Where all the maye his custome was to abyde
Sole to complayne of his paynes kene
Fro yere to yere vnder the bowes grene
¶ And for bycause that it drewe to the nyght
And that the sonne his arke dyurnall
Passed was so that his persaunt lyght
His bryght bemes and his stremes all
Were in the wawas of the water fall
Under the bordure of our occyan
His chare of golde his course so swyftely ran
¶ And whyle the twylyght and rewes rede
Of phebus lyght were dyaurate a lyte
A penne I toke and gan me fast spede
The wofull playnte of this man to wryte
Worde by worde as he dyde endyte
[...] [...]
Lyke as I herde and coude hym tho reporte
I haue here set your hertes to dysporte
¶ yf ought be amysse laye the faute in me
For I am worthy for to bere the blame
yf ony thynge amysse reported be
To make this dytte for to feyue lame
Thrugh myne vnkūnȳge but for to seyne ye same
Lyke as this man his complaynte dyd expresse
I axe mercy and forgyuenesse
¶ And as I wrote me thought I sawe a ferre
Ferre in the west lustely appere
Esperus the goodly bryght sterre
So gladde so fayre so persaunt eke of chere
I mene venus with her bemes clere
That heuy hertes onely to releue
Is wonte of custome for to shewe at eue
¶ And I as fast fell downe on my kne
And euen thus to her I gan to prey
O lady venus so fayre vpon to se
Let not this man for his trouthe dey
For that Joye thou haddest whan thou laye
With mars thy knyght whom vulcanus founde
And with a reyne vnuysybly you bounde
¶ Togyder bothe two in the same whyle
That all the courte aboute celestyall
At your shame gan laughe and smyle
O fayre lady well wyllynge founde at all
Conforte to carefull o goddesse immortall
Be helpynge nowe and do thy dylygence
To lette the stremes of thyne influence
¶ Dessende downe in furtherynge of the trouthe
Namely of them that lye in sorowe bounde
Shewe now thy myght & on theyr wo haue ruthe
Theyr false daunger sle them and confounde
And specyally let thy myght be founde
For to socoure what so that thou may
The true man that in the herber laye
¶ And all true forther for his sake
O glad sterre o lady venus myne
And cause his lady hym to grace take
Her herte of stele to mercy so enclyne
Or that thy bemes go vp to declyne
And or that thou now go fro vs adowne
For that loue thou haddest to downe
¶ And whan she was gone to her rest
I rose anone and home to bed wente
For very wery me thought it for the best
Praynge thus in all my best entente
That all true louers that be with daunger shente
With mercy maye in releas of her payne
Recured be or maye come efte agayne
¶ And for that I may no lenger wake
Farewell ye louers all that be true
Prayenge to god and thus my lyue I take
That or the sonne tomorowe be rysen newe
And or he haue agayne his rosen hewe
That eche of you maye haue suche a grace
His owne lady in armes to enbrace
¶ I mene thus that in all honeste
Without more ye maye togyder speke
[Page]What so you lyst at good lyberte
That ce [...] may to other theyr herte breke
On Jelousy onely to be wreke
That hathe so longe of malyce and enuy
Warred trouth with his tyranny

¶ Lenuoy.

Pryncesse pleafeth it your benygnyte
This lytell dytte to haue in mynde
Of woman hede also for to se
your true man may mercy fynde
And pyte eke that longe hathe ben behynde
Let agayne be prouoked to grace
For by my trouthe it is agaynste kynde
False daunger to occupy his place

¶ Lenuoy du quayer

¶ Golytell quayre go vnto my lyues quene
And my very hertes souerayne
And be ryght glad for she shall the sene
Suche is thy grace but I alas in payne
Am lefte behynde but not to whome to complayne
For mercy trouthe grace and eke pyte
Exyled be / that I may not attayne
Recure to fynde of myne aduersyte
¶ Finis.

¶ Imprynted at London in the Flete strete at the sygne of the Sonne by Wynkynde worde.

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