Iv

Of his lady's praise

Lady, in beauty and in favour rare, Of favour, not of due, I favour crave. Nature to thee beauty and favour gave; Fair then thou art, and favour thou may'st spare. Nor when on me bestowed your favours are, Less favour in your face you shall not have; If favour then a wounded soul may save, Of murder's guilt, dear Lady, then beware. My loss of life a million fold were less Than the least loss should unto you befall; Yet grant this gift; which gift when I possess, Both I have life and you no loss at all. For by your favour only I do live, And favour you may well both keep and give.