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

The louer refused, lamenteth his estate.

I Lent my loue to losse and gaged my life in vaine, If hate for loue and death for life of louers be the gaine.

And curse I may by course the place eke time and howre That nature first in me did forme to be a liues creature, Sithe that I must absent my selfe so secretly In place desert where neuer man my secretes shall discry: In doling of my dayes among the beastes so brute, Who with their tonges may not bewray the secretes of my sute. Nor I in like to them may once to moue my minde But gase on them and they on me, as beastes are wont of kinde. Thus ranging as refusde, to reache some place of rest, Ill ruff of heare•• my nayles vnnocht, as to such semeth best. That wander by their wittes, deformed so to be, That men may say, such one may curse the time he first gan see The beauty of her face, her shape in such degree, As God himself may not discerne, one place mended to be. Nor place it in like place, my fansy for to please, Who would become a heardmans hyre, one howre to haue of ease. Whereby I might restore, to me some stedfastnes. That haue mo thoughtes heapt in my hed thē life may long disges As oft to throw me downe vpon the earth so cold, Wheras with teares most rufully, my sorowes do vnfold. And in beholding them. I chiefly call to minde, What woman could finde in her hart, such bondnge for to binde. Then rashly forth I yede, to cast me from that care, Like as the bird for foode doth flye, and lighteth in the snare. From whence I may not meue, vntill my race be roon, So trained is my truth through her, y^t thinkes my life well woon. Thus tosse I to and fro, in hope to haue reliefe, But in the fine I finde not so, it doubleth but my griefe. Wherfore I will my want, a warning for to be, Unto all men, wishing that they, a myrrour make of me.