COMPLAINT TO HIS Majestie.
LOue, Want, and Cares, all contrare me conspyre,
First, second, last, for me too many bee:
Want breakes my heart, and drown's my high desyre,
And makes my Muse so lowe a course to flee.
But were J rich, the cruell fair wold rew,
Then sould J sing and bid my Cares adew.
O happie Artist, and Mechanick slaue,
Thou mai'st a price vpon thy paines impose:
My wair is such, I know not what to craue,
And so but looke both Loue and Lynes I lose:
Strange thing betwix my Soveraigne and my sant,
I waist my wits, and rape but woes and want.