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SHSTMAC02UPU
<P 6>
<S Moore> Now will I speake like Moore in melancholy
For if greefes power could wth her sharpest darts
pierce my firme bosome; here#s sufficient cause
to take my farewell of mirths hurtles lawes.
Poore humbled Lady, thou that wert of late
placde wth the noblest women of the land
Invited to their angell companies
seeming a bright Starre in the Courtly Sphere
why shouldst thou like a widow sit thus low
and all thy faire consorts moove from the clowds
that ouerdreep thy beautie and thy worth
Ile tell thee the true cause, the Court like heauen
examines not the anger of the Prince
and being more fraile composde of guilded earth
shines vpon them on whom the king doth shine
smiles if he smile, declines if he decline
Yet seeing both are mortall Court and king
shed not one teare for any earthly thing
For so God p(ar)don me in my saddest hower
thou hast no more occasion to lament
nor these, nor those, my exile from the court
no nor this bodyes tortur wer . . .
