Songes and sonettes, written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other

The louer forsaketh his vnkinde loue.

FArewell thou frosen hart and eares of hardned stele, Thou lackest yeres to vnderstand the grefe that I did fele, The gods reuenge my wrong, with equall plage on thee, When plesure shal prick forth thy youth, to learn what loue shalbe•• Perchance thou prouest now, to scale blinde Cupides holde, And matchest where thou maist repent, when al thy cards are told But blush not thou therfore, thy betters haue done so, Who thought they had retaind a doue, when they but caught a cro And some do lenger time, with lof••y lokes we see, That lights at length as low or wors thē doth the betell bee. Yet let thy hope be good, such hap may fall from hye: That thou maist be if fortune serue, a princesse er thou dye. Is chance prefer thee so, alas poore sely man, where shall I scape thy cruell handes, or seke for succour than? God shud such greedy wolues, should lap in giltlesse bloode, And send short hornes to hurtful heads, y^• rage like lyons woode. I seldome se the day, but malice wanteth might, And hatefull harts haue neuer hap, to wreke their wrath aright. The madman is vnmete, a naked sword to gide, And more vnfit are they to clime, that are orecome with pride. I touch not thee herein, thou art a fawcon sure, That can both soer and stoupe sometime, as men cast vp the lure. The pecock hath no place, in thee when thou shalt list, For some no soner make a signe, but thou perceuest the fist. They haue that I do want, and that doth thee begilde, The lac•• that thou dost se in me, doth make thee loke so wilde. My lur••ng is not good•• it liketh not thine eare, My call it is not half so swete, as would to god it were. well wanton yet beware, thou do no••t••ryng take, At euery hand that would thee fede, or to thee frendship make, This councell take of him that ought thee once his loue, Who hopes to mete thee after this among the saintes aboue, But here within this world, if he may shonne the place, He rather asketh present death, then to beholde thy face.