Ix

Love hath I followed all too long, nought gaining; And sighed I have in vain to sweet what smarteth, But from his brow a fiery arrow parteth, Thinking that I should him resist not plaining. But cowardly my heart submiss remaining, Yields to receive what shaft thy fair eye darteth. Well do I see thine eye my bale imparteth, And that save death no hope I am detaining. For what is he can alter fortune's sliding? One in his bed consumes his life away, Other in wars, another in the sea; The like effects in me have their abiding; For heavens avowed my fortune should be such, That I should die by loving far too much.